SHERMANIZED. Sighing and sorrow to-day. Sprinkle the showers from Heaven's blue eyes Wide o'er the green summer lea, Rachel is weeping, oh! Lord of the skies, 339 Shermanized. BY L. VIRGINIA FRENCH, TENNESSEE. [This Poem was read by Miss Lucy Powell Harris, at a concert given by the pupils of the Houston Street Female High School, in Atlanta, May 1st, 1866.] In this city of Atlanta, on a dire and dreadful day, 'Mid the raging of the conflict, 'mid the thunder of the fray In the blaze of burning roof-trees-under clouds of smoke and flame Sprang a new WORD into being, from a stern and dreaded name; Gaunt, and grim, and like a spectre, rose that WORD before the world, From a land of bloom and beauty, into ruin rudely hurled From a people scourged by exile-from a city ostracised Pallas-like it sprang to being, and that WORD is-Sher manized! And forevermore hereafter, where the fierce Destroyer reigns, Where Destruction pours her lava over cultivated plains Where Want and Woe hold carnival-where bitter Blight and Blood Sweep over prosperous nations in a strong, relentless flood; Where the golden crown of Harvest trodden into ashes lies, And Desolation stares abroad with famine-frenzied eyes Where the wrong with iron sceptre crushes every Right we prized, There shall people groan in anguish-" God! the Right is Shermanized! MAN may rule the raids of Ruin-lead the legions that despoil From the lips of honest Labor dash the guerdon of its toil "Sow with salt" the smiling valleys, and on every breezy height Kindle bale-fires of destruction, lurid in the solemn night; He may sacrifice the aged, and exult when Woman stands, 'Mid the sunken, sodden ashes of her home, with palsied hands Drooping over hungered children-man may thus immortalize His name with haggard infamy-his watchword-"Shermanize !" SHERMANIZED. 341 Nobler deeds are WOMAN's province she must not destroy, but build, She must bring the urns of Plenty with the wine of Pleasure filled; She must be the "sweet restorer" of this sunny Southern land; Fill our schools, rebuild our churches, take the feeble by the hand, Aid the Press, befriend the teacher, give to Want its daily bread, And never, never fail to weave above our "noble dead" The laurel garland due to deeds of valor's high emprize, And won by men whom failure could not sink, or— Shermanize! With her wakened love of labor, let her labor on in love, Still, in softness and in stillness, as the starry circles move, Bearing light and bringing gladness, from the leaden clouds unfurled, As the soft rise of the sunlight bringeth morning to the world; Grandly urging on Endeavor, as the gates of Day un close, Till the "solitary place again shall blossom as the rose," And Woman-THE RE-BUILDER-shall be freely eulogised By the triumph of her people, then no longer Shermanized. God bless our noble Georgia! though her soil was over run, And her lands in desolation laid, beneath an Autumn sun; With the signal shout "To action !"—like the boom of signal guns, She has roused the iron mettle of her strong and stalwart sons. May her daughters aid that effort to rebuild and to re store, Working on for Southern freedom as they never worked before! May Georgia as a laggard never once be stigmatized, And her PEOPLE, PRESS, or PULPIT, never more be Shermanized! Song of the Snow. BY MRS. MARGARET J. PRESTON. HALT!-the march is over! Drop the heavy gun: Wander to and fro, Fires amid the snow. Round the bright blaze gather, Heed not sleet nor cold, Ye are Spartan soldiers, |