{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3569", "width": "2224", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.\\nChap Copyright No\\nShelf\\nUNITED STATES OF AMERICA.", "height": "3407", "width": "2087", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "Thomas Jefferson Building Research Facility\\nC/3\\nX\\n:v r\\no\\na\\nn\\nH\\n.-I\\n1\\n,:x;\\ni\\nr\\nV.\\nr\\n2:\\nc\\n5\\ns\\n00\\n^1\\nPC\\nJ/\\ni^\\no\\nG W\\nr\\n15!?\\nI\\n1\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0is.\\no\\n3\\nS\\nQB O 1 1.\\n3^\\nr", "height": "3437", "width": "2142", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3427", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3427", "width": "2183", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3432", "width": "2137", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3432", "width": "2148", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3427", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3427", "width": "2183", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "^^^^9^rt^-", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "BEING A MEMOIR OF\\nNixon Poindexter Clingman\\nI\\nAND A SELECTION OF\\nHIS BEST ESSAYS AND POEMS, PREFACED BY A FEW^\\nPOEMS OF HIS MOTHER,\\nEMILY MAGEE CLINGMAN.\\nEDITED BY\\nOrrin Chalfant Painter.\\nBAI.TIMORE\\nThe AHTJiTDEr, Fsess,\\nJOHN S. BRIDGES \u00c2\u00abfc CO.\\n1900.", "height": "3432", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0013.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "_55882\\njLibr**iy of Ck nt^r\u00c2\u00ab\u00c2\u00ab\u00c2\u00aba\\nj* Vi\\\\. Cf Ui, fitCUVEO\\nOCT 3 1900\\nsta Nn cofv.\\nOiiiA^ DIVISION,\\nOGf 13 li^Uu\\nFSI35I\\nCOPyKIGHT, 1900.\\nBy ORRiisr Chai-fant Painter.", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0014.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nPAGE\\nPortrait Facing Title-page\\nIn Memoriam. Nixon P. Cling-\\nman M 9\\nEditor s Preface Orrin Chalfant Painter. 11\\nLines to Cousin Nixon Orrin Chalfant Painter. 17\\nMemoir of Nixon Poindexter\\nClingman Joseph E. Robinson 21\\nOn the Death of Nixon P. Cling-\\nman Lida Whitfield 29\\nA Tribute to the Genius of\\nNixon P. Clingman Lida Whitfield 33\\nPOEMS.\\nEMILY MAGEE CI.INGMAN.\\nAn Invocation 39\\nDreamland 41\\nFor Whom Do You Pray 43\\nLines (On Cousin Jenny Kerr) 45\\nESSAYS.\\nNIXON POINDEXTER CLINGMAN.\\nA Brief View of the Gradations of Life 49\\nMemorial Address 52\\nAddress at Temperance Celebration 55", "height": "3432", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0015.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "NIXON POINDEXTER CLINGMAN.\\nPrayer 63\\nGrowing Old 65\\nMy Mother 67\\nDo Angels Weep 68\\nThe Soldier s Burial 70\\nInscribed to a Lady 72\\nThe Drowned Mariner 73\\nColonel Ashby 75\\nTemperance Song 77\\nA Song of May 79\\nA Winter Song 81\\nHope and the Dew-drop 83\\nOn the Death of an Infant 84\\nThe Maniac 86\\nTo a River 88\\nThe Shadowy Ship 89\\nRavenswood 90\\nEva White\u00e2\u0080\u0094 A Ballad 92\\nLines Suggested on Leaving White River, Arkansas 94\\nThe Pale Brigade, or the Ku-Klux Klan 95\\nLines on the Death of Little Pearl 97\\nThe Simile 99\\nSong loi\\nThe Story of a Goat a Tragedy 102\\nSolitude 104\\nLines on the Death of Diana Simms, Infant Daughter of\\nDr. G. L. and Mollie G. Kirby 105\\nThere is Nothing Real 107", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0016.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "The Long Ago io8\\nThe Lost Ship 109\\nTo a Wave no\\nThe River of Years 112\\nThe Granite Stone 114\\nDeparted 116\\nReflections Beside a River 118\\nSix Similes 119\\nCommemorating the Opening of the Messenger Opera\\nHouse, at Goldsboro, Dec. 21, 18S1 121\\nThe Drummer Boy of Bowling Green 123\\nSea-side Musings 125\\nThe White Rose Bud 126\\nChristmas Greeting, Goldsboro News, 1867 127\\nChristmas Greeting, Carolina Messenger, 1872 129\\nChristmas Greeting, Goldsboro Messenger, 1883 133\\nChristmas Greeting, Goldsboro Messenger, 1884 .136\\nTokens 138\\nSunset 139\\nRetrospection 140\\nIn Memoriam. Lo Our Southern Cross is Broken 142\\nA Requiem 144\\nThe Dead Maiden 145\\nIn Memoriam. Land of the South 150", "height": "3442", "width": "2153", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0017.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0018.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "IN MEMORIAM.\\nNixon P. Clingman.\\nSo soon so soon alas, too soon\\nWe mourn thy broken lyre\\nTho a wondrous love in the realms above\\nCan restore its wonted fire.\\nAh, the broken harp tho listless now,\\nIt breathes a note of pain,\\nFor the vanished star in the clouded sky,\\nTo shine somewhere again.\\nAh, the broken harp tho silent now.\\nIts chords are lingering still,\\nTouching the depths of the human soul,\\nWith its pathos and good will.\\nTouching us all for the silent form\\nThat Hes neath the silent sod\\nTho his soul s in the keeping of Him who gave\\nAnd redeemed by a merciful God.\\nM.\\nWilmington, N. C, August, iSSj.", "height": "3442", "width": "2153", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0019.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0020.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "EDITOR S PREFACE.\\nThe publication of these, the greater number of Mr.\\nClingman s poems, many of which were written while\\nyet in his teens, is in response to the oft expressed and\\nearnest solicitations of his friends, and, in presenting\\nthem, the compiler but touches a chord of tender and\\naffectionate remembrance which still vibrates in their\\nhearts, at the name of Nixon P. Clingman.\\nAmong the most appreciative of Mr. Clingman s\\ngenius were three sisters, Misses Lida and Sue Whit-\\nfield, of La Grange, N. C, and Miss Lavinia Whitfield,\\nof New York City. The two former visited and corre-\\nsponded with the poet s mother, in Goldsboro, after his\\ndeath, until the time of her own. The most beautiful\\nsentiments were exchanged upon these occasions, the\\nladies named being gifted in no ordinary degree.\\nMisses Lida and Sue were devoted to literary pursuits\\nand were well known for their poetic productions, while\\nMiss Lavinia acquired distinction by her works of art.", "height": "3442", "width": "2138", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0021.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "12 Nixon Poindexter Clingman.\\nThe portrait of our poet, which appears in this book,\\nis from an enlarged drawing by Miss Lavinia Whitfield,\\nmade in 1886, from a photograph taken when he was\\nabout twenty-five years of age. This drawing was pre-\\nsented by Miss Lavinia Whitfield to the poet s mother,\\nwho prized it highly.\\nIn a letter to Misses Lida and Sue Whitfield, Mrs.\\nClingman says In reference to the remarks of your\\nartist sister, enclosed in your recent letters, her impres-\\nsions of my son s picture struck me forcibly. At the\\ntime the original little picture was taken, there was\\nalmost always on the face the expression of which she\\nspeaks, but of later years the countenance wore much\\nof a melancholy, serious cast only at times, when\\ninterested in discussions of interest, would his eyes give\\nforth that brilliant and varied expression which the\\nartist discerned. In repose they were mild and sweet,\\nnot black, but dark brown. His nose was slightly large\\nand somewhat aquiline his raven black hair, slightly\\nwaving, was never worn very short, yet revealed a\\nhead of finest mould his moustache was full and\\nblack. His height was six feet, two inches, and his\\nphysical development was perfect. His weight was\\nabout one hundred and seventy pounds. k j^-\\ndoes not seem that my boy is dead, but just about", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0022.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "Nixon Poindexter Clingman. i^\\nentering my room, or at my elbow. But the grave\\nnow covers his precious form, over which the loving\\nsunshine is bringing forth bud and bloom.\\nFollowing is an extract from a letter signed W. C. G.,\\nwritten in Snow Hill, Greene County, N. C., dated\\nMarch 7, 1882, and addressed to the editor of the\\nGoldsboro Messenger\\nIn your own town, Mr. Editor, there lives a poet\\nof whose literary attainments we know but little, our\\nacquaintance with him being very limited, who is richly\\nendowed by nature with the gift of poesy. Let us give\\nyou a slight pen-picture of him as we saw him about\\nthirteen years ago, when we were boys, as he stood\\non the platform erected in the oak grove (now passed\\naway) in front of Mr. E. B. Borden s residence, deliver-\\ning a temperance speech. He was just arrived at his\\nmajority, and was tall, well proportioned, graceful and\\nhandsome. His raven locks played in the gentle\\nsummer breeze his dark eyes flashed with the fire of\\nhis subject his cheeks glowed with the radiance of\\nhealth his forehead was high and broad, the percep-\\ntion and reasoning faculties being well developed his\\nmouth was tolerably large, but well shapen, his teeth\\nwhite and regular, and his nose aquiline. There he\\nstood, a perfect picture of vigorous health and comeli-", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0023.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "14 Nixon Poindcxtcr Clingman.\\nness and his nice black suit, snow-white shirt and jet\\ncravat (which nearly ran us mad with envy) added to\\nhis handsome appearance. Possibly every citizen of\\nGoldsboro knows already to whom I allude, but others\\nmay not recognize him his name is Nixon P. Clingman,\\nthe Robert Burns of North Carolina. What melody,\\npathos and elegance there are in his little poem begin-\\nning\\nTwice thirty years their shadows weave,\\nMy mother, round thy brow\\nand his In Memoriam, something I have never read,\\nthough I would like to very much, as it is said to be\\none of the finest things in the language.\\nThe eminent critics, Hugh F. Murray, of Wilson,\\nN. C, and Ed. Williams Pugh, M. D., of Windsor,\\nN. C, have complimented highly the genius of Mr.\\nClingman, and it is a matter of regret that space does\\nnot permit of the publication of their communications.\\nMy personal recollections of Cousin Nixon are indis-\\ntinct, as twenty-five years have passed since I saw him.\\nI remember, however, his dark eyes and hair and his\\nlarge stature. During my last visit to Goldsboro, in\\nMay, 1900, I visited the spot where Mother Earth has\\nreclaimed his dust. His memory has not been\\nUnwept, imhonoiir d, and unsung,", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0024.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "Nixon Poindexter Clingman. 75-\\nnor shall it be while love tokens of the warm-hearted\\nSouth are expressed in flower, eulogy and song.\\nCall it not vain they do not err\\nWho say that when the poet dies\\nMute Nature mourns her worshipper,\\nAnd celebrates his obsequies.\\nOrrin Chalfant Painter.\\nBaltimore, Md.. July g, igoo.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0025.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0026.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "Nixon Poindexter Clingman. ij\\nLINES TO COUSIN NIXON.\\nChild of the sunny Southern dime,\\nWho didst pour thy soul in rhyme\\nAnd thrill thy kinsmen tried and true\\nStill thy praises do they sing,\\nAnd still affection s tendrils cling\\nAround the heart they loved and knew.\\nFew there were who had the fire\\nSo to sweep the magic lyre,\\nAnd cast on others such a spell\\nFew there were among the throng\\nTo feel the spirit of thy song,\\nWho could its wondrous beauty tell.\\nIn a brighter world art thou,\\nAnd the laurel round thy brow\\nFairer hands perchance may twine\\nIn that blissful Land of Leal\\nMayst thou no sorrow feel.\\nSuch as here on Earth was thine.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0027.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "i8 Nixon Poindexter Clingviaji.\\nDo angels weep Oh, do they weep,\\nAnd over mortals vigils keep\\nWhile they must sin and suffer long\\nAh then that pure celestial band,\\nDescending from the Spirit Land,\\nMust weave a minor in its song.\\nWe shall meet and know some day,\\nOut upon the shining way\\nStretching through the starry spheres\\nWe shall there commune with God,\\nNot forgetting when we trod\\nOnce within this Vale of Tears.\\nOrrin Chalfant Painter.\\nBaltimore, Md., Jjme i6, igoo.", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0028.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "iEemoir", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0029.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0030.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "memoir of\\nNixon Poini exter Clingman.\\nNixon Poindexter Clingman was born at Huntsville,\\nN. C, on the first day of November, 1847, being de-\\nscended from a long line of distinguished ancestors\\nboth paternal and maternal noted for intrepidity of\\ncharacter and force of intellect, whose genius Mr.\\nClingman inherited in blended power of mental en-\\ndowments, physical structure, grace of person and\\nelegance of manner\\nHis father, Henry Patilla Clingman, M. D., who still\\nsurvives him, at the age of eighty-seven, is the great-\\ngrand-son of Henry Patilla, D. D. and M, D., who was\\nborn in Scotland in 1726, and after completing his\\necclesiastical and medical courses in the best institu-\\ntions of the mother country, came to America and\\nlocated, first in the province of Virginia, but subse-\\nquently established himself in Granville County, N. C,\\nand was, in 1775, sent as a delegate to the first Pro-\\nvincial Congress, where his ability as a statesman and", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0031.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "22 Nixon Poindexter Clingman,\\nhis intrepidity as a patriot were so spontaneously rec-\\nognized among that aggregation of heroic men, that he\\nwas unanimously chosen Chairman of that memorable\\nbody.*\\nMr. Clingman s mother, Emily Magee, was of old\\nEnglish ancestry, her grandfather, Dr. John Meer, hav-\\ning come to this country, in 1793 and settled in Phila-\\ndelphia, where he pursued the practice of medicine, to\\na ripe old age, with distinguished ability and financial\\nsuccess. A typical English gentleman in dress and\\nmanner, he is still remembered by his only surviving\\ngrand-child, Mrs. Louisa Magee Deacon, of Wilming-\\nton, Del., a sister of Mrs. Clingman, the poet s mother.\\nFrom his mother, who had a sweet intellectuality of\\nmind, the young poet inherited his gift of the muses.\\nNixon P. Clingman was a double second cousin of\\nthe late Gen. Thomas L. Clingman, among our bravest\\ncivil war officers, long a U. S. S., and conspicuous\\nin the annals of Southern ante-bellum history, and of\\nvaried acquisition of knowledge, having left literary\\nproductions, both scientific and otherwise, in the pos-\\nsession of his family.\\nThe particular period at which the subject of this\\nsketch arrived at years of discretion, and thence on\\n*See Foote s History of North Carolina, chap. xvi.", "height": "3447", "width": "2173", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0032.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "Nixon Poindexter Cling7nan. 2j\\nthrough his teens, was contemporary with that turbu-\\nlency of public life that culminated in the war between\\nthe States, in which bloody struggle he lost an only\\nbrother, four years his senior, Lieut. Edward P. Cling-\\nman, who enlisted at the age of seventeen, and fell on\\nthe field of valor while leading a brilliant Cavalry\\ncharge in July, 1864. Edward and Nixon were devoted\\nto each other they were constant companions at school\\nand in all their boyish exploits, of buoyant spirits and\\neffervescent merriment, and the untimely death of the\\nformer brought abiding sadness to the soul of Nixon,\\nacross whose boyish countenance, with the coming of\\nthe crushing news, there crept the hush of feeling and\\nthe calm of thought, which lingered there through all\\nthe afterwhile of his own too brief career.\\nIt is hard to depict and almost impossible to imag-\\nine the breaking-up of homes, the wrecking of lives,\\nthe destruction of earthly happiness, effected in the\\nSouth by the terrible war of 61 65 between the States,\\nand the home of our boy poet was no exception to this\\ncrucible of blood, hence, on the marriage of his only sis-\\nter, Ida Clingman, to the late Col. Lotte W. Humphrey,\\nan officer in the Confederate service, he went to live\\nwith them at the Colonel s elegant plantation home in\\nOnslow County, and be a protection to his sister while", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0033.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "24 Nixon Poin dexter Clingman.\\nthe Colonel was absent from his home, but the en-\\ncroachment of Federal troops upon that section of the\\nState became so menacing that Col. Humphrey moved\\nhis family to a safer distance in the interior of the\\nState. Young Nixon, too young for the ranks of war,\\npreferred, however, to remain behind, in the midst of\\nthe danger, on the Onslow plantation, where, during\\nseveral months, he had a number of exciting encounters\\nwith Federal scouts. On one occasion a Federal soldier\\nhad leveled his pistol at him to kill him, when young\\nChngman, with the agility of a tiger, sprang upon his\\nwould-be assassin, himself unarmed, and grappled with\\nhim in a deadly struggle, which was only ended by a\\nnumber of other Federal soldiers coming to the rescue\\nof their comrade and taking our poet prisoner. On\\nthe way to the enemy s camp, marching between two\\nof his captors, coming to a dense wood and heavy un-\\ndergrowth on the road side, he knocked one of them\\ndown with a desperate blow and leaping over his pros-\\ntrate form into the brush, he made good his escape,\\nand by a circuitous route, during which he many times\\nhad to elude the enemy s outposts, suffering for food,\\nand foot-sore, he finally joined his anxious family\\nwhom he found safely domiciled in Goldsboro, N. C,\\nwhich has ever since been their home the Colonel,", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0034.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "Nixon Poindexter Cliyigman. 2^\\nhaving immediately after the war, purchased extensive\\nreal estate here, and entered upon the practice of his\\nprofession, being a lawyer of distinguished ability. In\\nhis office, young Clingman took up the study of the\\nLaw, and with such application and success, that by\\nthe time he had reached the age of nineteen, he had\\ncreditably passed the required examination before the\\nSupreme Court of the State and been granted license\\nto practice Law. But the Law seemed not to meet the\\naspirations of the poet s soul, and by degrees he drifted\\naway from it into literary work on the leading news-\\npapers of the town the Goldsboro Messenger, espec-\\nially, whose columns his writings adorned, and whose\\ncirculation they increased a hundred fold, bringing it\\nup to be the most widely read and influential news-\\npaper in the State in its day, and he remained with it\\ncontinuously till his death. It was chiefly in its col-\\numns that the poems of Mr. Clingman, herein published,\\nfirst appeared, and which were written, not as labored\\nor studied productions, to meet the requirements of\\nthe editor, but were simply the spontaneous effusions\\nof the poet s soul, when occasion presented, or senti-\\nment prompted, and they always met with such avidity\\nof appreciation and widespread demand that, invariably,\\neach one, as it appeared, had to be republished in sub-", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0035.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "26 Nixon Poindextcr Clingman.\\nsequent issues of the paper, and often through several\\neditions. (The author of this memoir was a co-worker\\non the Messenger with the poet for several years, and\\nknows whereof he writes in this regard.)\\nIt is, indeed, to be deeply regretted that Mr. Cling-\\nman did not oftener give voice in verse to his poetic\\ngenius, which was fathomless in resources of imagina-\\ntion and majestic in the sweep of its fancy and in grace\\nof diction. His soul was in touch with Nature in all\\nher changing moods, and he recognized the ambrosia\\nwhich nourished his poetic fancy in the air and\\neverywhere but it was only on rare occasions that\\nhe would touch the lyre just to show us, as it were,\\nthat,\\nThus do I live,\\nA dweller on the earth, yet by the hand\\nOf thought, that mighty and mysterious Prince\\nOf the fair House of Life, led up above\\nIt and its woes to dream my dreams and sing\\nMy songs in pensive solitude.\\nOn the night of the 12th of July, 1885, at the home\\nof his brother-in-law, Col. Humphrey, where he resided,\\nthe soul of Nixon P. Clingman took its flight to God\\nwho gave it, in the thirty-seventh year of his age, and\\nwhen the sad news became public, the press of the", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0036.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "Nixon Poindexter Clingman. 2y\\nentire State were generous in their editorial tributes to\\nhis memory and his worth, both as a writer of prose,\\nwhose style was inimitable, and as a poet of rarest\\ngenius and abounding promise. His revered mother,\\nto whom one of his most beautiful poems is inscribed,\\nfollowed him in just two years, to his long home, and a\\nfew years later Col. Humphrey passed away, and to-\\ngether their mortal remains repose in the family plot in\\nbeautiful Willow Dale Cemetery, in Goldsboro.\\nJoseph E. Robinson.\\nGoldsboro, N. C,\\nJune 20, i(^oo.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0037.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0038.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "Nixon Poiiidexter Clingmmi. 2g\\nON THE DEATH OF NIXON P. CLINGMAN.\\nThe future years may countless roll\\nHenceforward from the Present,\\nLit by suns of dazzling gold,\\nBy evening s silvery crescent\\nThrough brilliant nights the stars bright\\nWill glow until to-morrow,\\nBut ne er to sight will ages light\\nThe Star we lost in sorrow.\\nWith stranger eyes we gazed afar.\\nYet, not like to a stranger,\\nFor through the clouds that dimmed its bar\\nWe saw its golden grandeur,\\nAnd oh, we prayed that bright arrayed\\nTwould burst its cloudy garment.\\nIn shine and shade like a jeweled blade\\nAloft by an armament.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0039.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "JO Nixo7i Poindexter Clingman.\\nAcross the Heavens where it shone\\nThe clouds He now unbroken\\nBut, ah, each heart doth keep its own,\\nToo sacred to be spoken.\\nFor Hke the calm of a low-breathed psalm,\\nThe trust as penitent\\nAs its rays will rest, evermore in our breast,\\nIt is somewhere Radiant.\\nLida Whitfield.\\nLa Grange, N. C, July 20, 188^.", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0040.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "Crtljute", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0041.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0042.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "A TRIBUTE TO THE GENIUS OF\\nNIXON P. CLINGMAN.\\nThere is no affliction so bitter, in this vale of sorrow,\\nas that of the perishing of a hope, which, a little farther\\nalong, might have been realized. A few steps might\\nhave brought the pure God-given gleam through the\\nblackness. No despair so great as to behold the be-\\nloved object of our heart s solicitude utterly, hope-\\nlessly sink into the darkness which engulfs all that\\nmight have come, all the shining-winged angels of\\nhope, which stand at the threshold of each incoming\\nyear, weaving a mist of consolation for the future,\\nbejeweling it with the tears of the past, crystallized\\ninto gems of divine trust.\\nAnd so it was with this beautiful mind. He was a\\nman who, under any circumstances, never lost his man-\\nhood. His Hfe was so full of light and shadow his\\nheart so tender with emotions softened unto tearful\\nlove, wrought by stimulus unto madness his soul sub-\\nlimated by rich gifts, endowed with high and lofty\\npoetic faculties, such as few possess. His was pleasing", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0043.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "j^ Nixo7i Poindexter Clingman.\\nand versatile humor, yet ever, as it seemed, uncon-\\nsciously, to the deeper mind, the sensitive heart, por-\\ntraying a depth of feeling rarely blended with the\\nsparkling foam of our modern humorist. A hopeless,\\nin-laid regret seemed ever dripping its tears into the\\ndelicate wit, which were shattered like rose-petals from\\nhis pen. An emotional melancholy, which none of us\\ncould realize, if within our power to fathom.\\nHis was no common composition, no general clay as\\nhis virtues were concentrated, the powers of his mind\\nlofty, so were his passions of a deeper kind than those\\nof most men. There was naught forced in his great\\ngenius, in his passions they were cognate. All the\\nqualities of his mind were called upon to resist, not to\\nstrengthen.\\nWe admired, we pitied, yet we lost him, while hope\\nbreathed in our hearts, and lit the forehead of time, as\\nhe weighted the balances of the future.\\nThe world lost Byron at the early age of thirty-seven.\\nAfar, in a strange land, this great, but wearied spirit,\\nloosed the galling chain of clay from its broken wings\\nand drifted away, leaving behind a line of unbroken\\nfuture, of golden fruits, an harvest that might have shed\\na lustre of purity over all the years of his unhappy but\\nglorious past.", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0044.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "Nixon Poindexter Clingman.\\nAnd, like the strange, invincible necessities of fate,\\nthere are the deaths of Robbie Burns and our own\\nimmortal Poe, following closely the critical, unfortunate\\ndate. Burns, dying in poverty and destitution, bowed\\nwith the weight of his own misdeeds, only asking to be\\nleft to the judgment of a higher Power than man.\\nPoe, our own mis-judged, mis-guided, yet most original\\npoet, understood, appreciated, beloved but by few in\\nlife, dying suddenly in a strange hospital. All of these\\npassed ere the sun of their lives had kissed away the\\ndew of youth.\\nAnd so, sorrowfully, solemnly and fatally, the desire\\nof life faded from the eyes of Nixon P. Clingman, and\\nthe heart, in sympathy, slept sank into that rest which\\nbut once steals unto the hearts of all men. Death, like\\na shadow through the day, drifted beyond us stead-\\nfastly away, bearing in its obscure breath ail the life,\\nlight and earthly hope, leaving but a troop of future\\nyears, lying like a waste before our tear-blinded eyes.\\nYet, oh, if our hearts, in their sorrowful blindness,\\nnarrowness and sin, can throb and ache in pity and\\nregret oh, can we not trust to the Heart of Jesus, that\\nFountain Head of Love, which could hold a thousand\\nworlds within its Pity", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0045.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "^6 Nixon Pohidexter Clmgman.\\nThrough all the land, through perfect harmony\\nOf Summer s tones,\\nA sound of discord fell, touched mournfully\\nBy Hands unknown,\\nAnd the voice that sang afar was gone.\\nA life that seemed to us so far removed\\nFrom Death s lone tomb\\nA tree, lifting itself, dearly beloved,\\nCasting a shade a bloom\\nThat fell, all sudden, beneath unlooked-for doom\\nAnd yet, the loosing, nor the staying,\\nWe may not choose.\\nHow swift the skies, in all their rare portraying,\\nFade from our view,\\nAs that, which we would miss most, we must lose\\nBut, ah, a sweet hope fills the silence,\\nCold on our hearts behind.\\nThat the voice we heard hath gained a sweeter cadence,\\nWhich Death unbinds\\nUnto a Gracious Pardon, singing, itself Divine.\\nLiDA Whitfield.\\nLa Grange, N. C, 1885.", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0046.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "^oettts\\nEMILY MAGEE CL.INGMAN.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0047.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0048.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "AN INVOCATION.\\nShe left us in the bloom of youth, her girlhood days\\nscarce o er,\\nAnd the melody of her dear voice falls on our ear no\\nmore\\nShe left us ere a bud of hope was stricken from her\\nbrow,\\nEre her path had lost one sunny flower we wear the\\ncypress now.\\nOh, what is death\\nThou knowest thou hast stemmed the bounded tide\\nWere the waters calm and peaceful, or turbulent and\\nwild\\nDid Angels wait thy coming upon that other shore\\nDid they greet thee to the gladness that lives forever-\\nmore?\\nWhat made thy lips so pale and mute, when thou\\ngavest up thy breath\\nAnd why that look upon thy face, so wondrous in death\\nDid no fears assail thee Was thy trust so strong in\\nGod?", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0049.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "40 A7i Invocation.\\nDid the Living Light uphold thee and light the way\\nyou trod\\nDidst think of those who wept thy loss, when the shoals\\nwere safely passed\\nDid the Father take thee in His arms and give thee\\nrest at last\\nWhose Guardian Angel art thou if such there be\\nand when\\nShall my waiting spirit know those things now hid from\\nhuman ken\\nAnd the spirit world what is it Is all ethereal bliss\\nHow does it differ, absent one, in light and form, from\\nthis?\\nNo answer from the distant shore, no answer from the\\ndead.\\nTwas given in her speaking eye when on her dying bed.\\nAnd in the Book of Holy Writ the answer too is given\\nGod is a spirit, and like Him are those who live in\\nHeaven.\\nOh, great beyond all other thoughts invincible and\\nwise\\nIs He whose presence fills all space, the wide earth and\\nthe skies\\nAll glory to the Great I Am, who called her from above.\\nBeyond earth s portals, to the light of His supernal love", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0050.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "DREAMLAND.\\nMethought I heard but no it was illusion,\\nThe passing echo of my fitful dreams,\\nThe shadowy forms of past and buried treasures,\\nUnreal all and yet like truth it seems.\\nI stand alone near by the vail of shadows\\nI seem to linger but I cannot pass\\nWhilst from those aisles apart from human sorrow,\\nSweet accents fall upon my ear at last.\\nOh, sacred lyre Oh, harps that never waver\\nTouched by dear fingers harmonizing clear,\\nAdown the aisles up through the arches ringing,\\nShading my dreams with memory s pensive tear.\\nDear loving lips I catch their pleasing cadence,\\nThey weave a spell I fain would closer bind\\nAnd now it seems that from pure hands descending\\nDew-drops are sprinkled on this heart of mine.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0051.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "42 Dreamland.\\nThey come around me look once more upon me\\nThey clasp my hand as in the days of yore\\nEyes look in mine whose loving light enthralls me,\\nI wake the shadows flee unreal as before.\\nWeird music mingles with the gliding phantoms,\\nDear forms that flit in mystic light away\\nThe blended tints the light the airy splendor,\\nVivid in Dreamland, fade as visions pass away.\\nOh, Land of Dreams in the bewildering maze\\nOf fairy feet that scarcely bend the flowers,\\nWhere rich exotics scent the laden air\\nWith sweet aroma, through my dreaming hours\\nOh gentle hearts, whose love made bright my being-\\nOh gifted ones, I ve heard your last refrain\\nOh baby eyes, your light is veiled forever,\\nQuenched in this life, to be renewed again.", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0052.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "FOR WHOM DO YOU PRAY?\\n(^Sister s Letter,\\nFor whom do I pray I pray, love, for thee.\\nThat thy path through the sunshine of summer may be.\\nMay thy heart bound with pleasure be thy step ever\\nlight\\nMay no grief e er corrode, and no sorrow e er blight\\nThe hopes of thy bosom but gladsome and gay\\nBe each thought of thy heart, until life pass away.\\nFor whom do I pray Tis for thee, dearest, thee,\\nAnd the friends of my childhood, my parents, away.\\nI pray for my brothers, my sisters they share\\nMy heart in its holiest hour of prayer.\\nAnd, oh, that the hour may speed\\nWhen I may revisit my dear native home", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0053.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "44 For WJiom Do You Pray f\\nI ll pray for thee, dearest I ll never forget\\nTho my heart has grown lonely, tho hope s sun is set,\\nTho the bloom on my cheek is fading away,\\nAnd my heart feels its earliest throe of decay,\\nStill, I ll never forget thee no, never; my heart\\nWill dwell on sweet memories ere fate bade us part.\\nI ll pray, be thou ever as happy as now\\nTho time may bring changes to sadden thy brow.\\nAnd thy loveliness fade neath the touch of decay.\\nYet think of me, dearest, whilst I am away.\\nOh think of me ever, and let me, too, share\\nThy heart in its holiest hour of prayer\\nEnriched with affection, and fond ones at home,\\nForget not thy sister, the absent and lone.", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0054.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "LINES.\\n{071 Cousin Jenny Kerr?)\\nAt the dawning of the morning,\\nIn a chamber lorn and lonely,\\nA young wife and dying husband\\nLay together side by side\\nA young wife a year a bride,\\nAnd he dying by her side.\\nOh it was a sight of sorrow,\\nWith her arm around him thrown.\\nAnd her white lips making moan,\\nIn thy better days I loved thee,\\nLove thee still in thy decay,\\nMust I see thee pass away\\nSoon her eyes in sleep were set\\nWearied one\\nHer watches and disquiet over\\nFor awhile, and she shall wake\\nTo behold him by her side,\\nShe a young and grieving bride,\\nAnd he dying by her side.", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0055.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "^6 Lines on Cousin Jenny Kerr.\\nSunlit ray of beaming day\\nThrough the casement Ughted\\nUp two faces, pale and wan\\nHers from loss of rest, benighted\\nWith her grief, her young heart blighted\\nWith a dreary, sad unrest.\\nAnd she whispered in her slumber\\nWords that had no place or number,\\nWords for him alone\\nSunlight in her chamber streaming\\nSeemed as though it might beguile\\nFrom her breast its grief awhile.\\nThen her eyes unsealed from slumber,\\nAnd her lips in tender cadence\\nMurmured words of fond endearment\\nHeeding not the bitter token\\nThough her heart was riven, broken,\\nStill she whispered Dearest, wake.\\nLook up, husband, for my sake.\\nNo look no word but dews of death\\nFell faster with his fleeting breath.\\nSo the sun withdrew its ray,\\nClouded grew the beaming day\\nEver thus, hope fades away.", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0056.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "Cssajfi\\nXIXON POINDEXTER CLINGMAN.", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0057.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0058.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "A BRIEF VIEW OF THE GRADATIONS\\nOF LIFE.\\nPassing over the days of infancy, we come to those\\nof youth, that morning of Hfe in which the years are\\nclothed with a freshness and a splendor which the\\nheart of boyhood dreams are invulnerable to the\\nassaults of change. There is a subtler melody in the\\nglad chorus of Nature in the lisping of the leaves, the\\nwhisper of the brook and the language of the rain\\nthan any we hear in after days. The meadows expand\\nbefore us with a deeper green, and are studded with\\nflowers more richly dyed than those through which we\\njourney when the poetry of life is dissolved in prose.\\nTruth is an idyl to whose rhythmic measure we keep\\nhappy step, unmindful of the discord the future may\\nconceal. All the world is one grand painting, whose\\nfigures and landscapes are brought out by a Sovereign\\nArtist, and we fail, for a time, to discover that these\\nfigures may become distorted and these landscapes", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0059.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "^o The Gradations of Life.\\nblurred by the wickedness of the human heart by\\nguilt and sin.\\nOh Youth, why art thou not perennial Why, at\\nleast, in thy devoted lexicon, does the fiat of Nature\\nwrite Decay f Why do ye vanish, oh ideal days\\nand why do the roses die that star your way, and\\nleave but naked thorns The years wheel by on\\nceaseless wings, but it is difficult for youth to realize\\nthat it is marching with the great army of humanity\\nlord and vassal, patrician and plebeian, side by side\\nto one common goal, down to death. And thus the\\ndays go by, and youth is merged in manhood.\\nThe duties that confront us now are of graver import,\\nfor we are called upon to encounter the responsibilities\\nand requirements incident to our maturer state, and they\\nare many. Though life is at its zenith, victories and\\nreverses, lights and shadows, are strangely blended,\\nand alternately brighten and darken our way. We\\nlook back across our youth, and the romance that\\ngilded it is gone. The castles that we reared from\\nairy fabrics have faded from our view, and we pause\\nand grieve amid their ruins. Mead and wold and\\nmountain are robed in garments of more sober hue,\\nand the music of brook and breeze sounds just a little\\nharsher.", "height": "3442", "width": "2143", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0060.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "The Gradations of Life. 5/\\nIn whatever sphere of life he moves, every man\\nwields a certain influence for good or for evil, which\\nwill exert itself over those who look up to him, and are\\nto follow in his footsteps and hence, if the example of\\nsire or leader be not in the line of wisdom and propriety,\\nhe commits a grievous fault. As we pass the mile-\\nstones of life, year by year melts more rapidly away,\\nand the handwriting of time grows more legible on\\ncheek and brow, until, like the quick river that leaps\\ninto the sea and is lost in the depths of its bosom,\\nmanhood has glided into age. It is well now if early\\nexcesses have been avoided, for, if not, the legacy they\\nreserve for age is a legacy of sorrow. Youth and\\nmanhood, how quickly do they vanish Supplanted\\nwith old age, its infirm step and failing powers, our\\nearlier days shine like jewels through the mists of\\nyears, and their memories fall like benedictions about us.\\nOld age is to be always respected, and when com-\\nbined with goodness it is doubly lovable. Then the\\nwhite hair binds the withered brow like a crown of\\nlight, and the words that come from the trembling lips\\nsink into the heart even as a psalm. In a little while\\nthe pilgrim lays aside his staff, and the curtain falls\\non the drama of life.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0061.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "MEMORIAL ADDRESS.\\nAmong some unfinished manuscripts of Nixon P. ClinRman was found\\nthe following Memorial Address, intended for the Confederate soldiers\\nwhose remains repose in the Goldsboro cemetery. It was written about\\n1883, but was not spoken.\\nIN MEMORIAM.\\nWhen gallant souls take their departure we love to\\npay a tribute to their worth when the honored pass\\naway tis wisdom to revere their memory. And\\nalthough the present occasion is one that must drape\\nour hearts in gloom because of the unhappy reflection\\nit brings, yet it is a sad pleasure to assemble where\\nglory keeps its glowing vigil, to strew with wreaths of\\nimmortelles the resting-place of our silent veterans who\\nyielded up their fearless lives for a cause they nobly\\ntried to save. To-day each pure daughter of our\\nmelancholy land is scattering with pitying hand tear-\\nbathed flowers upon their stainless graves, as peerless", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0062.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "Memorial Address. ^j\\ntokens of affectionate remembrance. Though bHght-\\ning grief, with paUid brow, sits brooding o er the van-\\nquished South, and though her idols are all gone, she\\nstill is proudly grand in her wide desolation, for her\\npyramids of whitened bones are monuments reared to\\nfame, and her willow-decked sepulchres teach, in mute\\neloquence, of deeds that shall awake to admiration cen-\\nturies yet to come.\\nThough victory has deserted the sword her daring\\nleader drew, mirrored on its shattered blade are right\\nand heroism. Though the red cross is borne no longer,\\nand the flag of the bars is lowered, eager hands from\\nthe future reach to grasp the broken staff. Wanderers\\nfrom each varied clime shall come, with mournful brow,\\nto look upon her ruin and to muse on her decline, and\\nthe Bard in touching verse shall shape her living song.\\nAt her cypress-trellised altar themes of war, love and\\ndevotion, inspiration shall secure, and by her wreck the\\nsage will Hnger to weep upon her bier, while the dirges\\nof the South wind, trembling on her crimson plains,\\nwill calm with their soft sweetness the martyr s sleep\\nbeneath, and the starlit streams, that in their silver\\nwindings are sobbing through her vales, will whisper\\nup to Heaven a pean to their praise. Though their\\nlast shout for liberty is reverberating along the shores", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0063.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "^4 Memorial Address.\\nof Eternity, history will not permit their names to be\\nforgotten, but, true to its impartial mission, will record\\nthem on its brightest page. Then, place upon their\\nmoss-crowned biers your perfume-laden garlands, for\\nspringtime s rosy offerings are eager to twine their calm-\\ning incense at a shrine so pure, and when the blossoms\\nall have faded and their aromas gone, the withered\\nstems will serve to point where our warriors lie.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0064.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "ADDRESS OF NIXON P. CLINGMAN,\\nDelivered at the Temperance Celebratioii held in\\nGoldsboro, N. C, May ist, 1868.\\nCompanimis in the Holy Cause\\nBefore progressing with any remarks pertaining to\\nintemperance, permit me to acknowledge my apprecia-\\ntion of the honor conferred on me, by being chosen\\nwith other brothers, to extend my views of inebriety, its\\nevils and its inevitable consequences, to this large and\\ntalented assembly. I have attentively listened to the\\nfluent allusions of the eloquent speakers who have just\\nentertained you, and am fully assured that my com-\\nments must be eclipsed by the forcibleness of theirs\\nthough as the present occasion is not one of competi-\\ntion, but for the advancement of moral culture, and the\\nadmonition of the undecided, I most willingly proceed,\\nsoliciting your attention for but a few moments, regard-\\nless of obtaining oratorical notoriety.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0065.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "5 5 Address at Temperance Celebration.\\nIn the misty and superstitious age of above a thous-\\nand years ago, we are told that rigid and unwavering\\nalHes of sobriety, dauntlessly arrayed themselves against\\nthe intrigues of intoxication at this dark period, the\\nrevered Pittacus was the first to grasp the penon of\\nTemperance, and unfurl its folds of purity to an illiterate\\nworld. If at that remote time such impulses existed, is\\nit not incumbent upon the tenants of the fleeting nine-\\nteenth century, at the highest state of refined attain-\\nments, in possession of the catalogue of crimes which\\nhave been enacted at the instigation of wine, to adopt\\nthe lofty aspirations of the great man just alluded to,\\nand strive to emulate his most worthy example\\nRobert E. Lee, the Murat of America, and the com-\\npeer of exalted sentiments, is an advocate of temper-\\nance the martyred Stonewall Jackson, whose sacred\\nashes repose in a hero s grave, and whose memory will\\nlive in the heart of every Southern man till the star of\\nfame shall fade from the sky of immortality, also es-\\npoused the same great cause.\\nCountless numbers of souls pass yearly from the un-\\ncertain stage of life, to the mysterious realms of Eternity,\\nby the fatal pestilences, which sweep on wings of death\\nacross the earth s expanse by the gory hand of the\\nmidnight assassin, and by the glistening steel of vin-", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0066.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "Address at Temperance Celebration. 57\\ndictive warriors but it has been surmised, and I fear\\nwith too much accuracy, that the victims of these are\\nfar behind those of intemperance. We must beware of\\nthe coral drink for death is slumbering there and re-\\nmorse lingers around the bowl. The influence which it\\nexercises over humanity is analogous to that which the\\nbeautiful, though deadly rattlesnake exerts over the un-\\nsuspecting forest warbler charms but to destroy. How-\\nmany firesides that were once bright emblems of happi-\\nness are now deserted and cheerless from intemperance!\\nHow many an orphan with an intemperate father\\nsnatched from him, is now wandering forth in adversity,\\na child in poverty, and a stranger to morality How\\nmany ghastly corpses of intemperate beings impart a\\nspectral look to the various abodes of vice How many\\na widow kneels, with gloomy brow, beside the crumb-\\nling grave of an intemperate husband, with tears of\\nagony faUing amid the rank weeds above it, sadly mur-\\nmuring her sorrows to the night wind A shuddering\\nvoice from the tomb of woe, waiHngly responds mil-\\nlions As the insinuating blast toys with the blushing\\nflower whose modest petals blow before it, and then\\nscatters them rudely away, leaving what was before\\nlovely, nothing save an arena of bleakness, so it is too\\noften with man, when in his original purity he bows to", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0067.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "^8 Address at Temperance Celebration.\\nthe shrine of the flashing goblet and receives its fawn-\\ning caress, only to have his barque of life launched on\\nthe dreaded waters of Eternity. This is not a drawing\\nfrom the gorgeous tints of imagination s fanciful pencil\\nbut it is a sad truth and a stern reality. Intemperance\\nis as formidable to the personage of world-renown, as\\nto the obscure plebeian and to establish the correctness\\nof this assertion, I present, one of the many instances\\nof like character, the case of Alexander the Great he,\\nthe mighty leader of the Macedonians, who crossed the\\nHellespont and penetrated to the heart of Asia Minor,\\nwho stained the soil with the blood of a hundred and\\nten thousand Persian braves at one invincible onset to\\nwhose crimson plume, waving triumphant amid the\\nsmoke of battle, the fearless bands of Greece suc-\\ncumbed the beams of whose torchlight painted a\\nsickening glare on the tranquil sky above the lofty\\nspires of Persepolis who wrought desolation where er\\nthe war trump sounded, himself met the inebriate s\\ndoom and passed away, leaving attached to his illus-\\ntrious name the stigma of a drunkard.\\nThis is a subject susceptible of elaborate discussion,\\nand language is inadequate to depict the miseries con-\\ntained in the one word, intemperance. How unaccount-\\nable an occurrence it is, that man, being unmistakably", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0068.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "Address at Temperance Celebration. 59\\napprised of the sentence which God has passed upon\\nthe BacchanaHan, will so debase himself on earth and\\ntake the responsibility of being lost in the great here-\\nafter, as to seek the intoxicating cup When we gaze\\non the wide stretching waste of Heaven, with dazzling\\ngems of unexplored worlds resting in sublimity upon\\nits boundless bosom, or watch the gilded queen of\\nnight, borne by an invisible power in grandeur across\\nthe silent space of the upper sphere, the tender emotions\\nand startling reflections with which they at all times\\ninspire us, should prove sufficient to deter us from the\\nnectar glass, exclusive of the solemn injunction, Look\\nnot upon the wine.\\nTis a glorious epoch that throughout the confines of\\nour much loved and venerable Old North State,\\nTemperance Councils are springing up to impede the\\ncurse of drunkenness; ours of Goldsboro has arisen,\\nas if from the genial touch of a magician s wand, within\\nthe last three months and each week that rolls noise-\\nlessly along on the wheels of time and settles in the\\ndeep sea of by-gone years, gathers new members\\naround our cherished standard. They merit encour-\\nagement for their commendable design. As the faith-\\nful lighthouse, steadily fixed in the death brooding\\nstorm, tells the plunging vessel, lashed by the angry", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0069.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "6o Address at Temperance Celebration.\\nbillows of a convulsed ocean, how to avert the scowling\\nbreakers ahead, and where a haven of safety lies, so\\nthe noble institution of Temperance, looming grandly\\nabove the maddened tide of inebriety, firmly stands, and\\ncalmly points with the scroll of Truth to the path that\\nleads from shame and destruction, to honor and pros-\\nperity. May our Councils ever remain without a blem-\\nish on their existence Let the dark records of the\\nfaded Past be forever sealed in the vault of forgetful-\\nness Let the pall-bearers of dead events bear upon\\ntheir litter to chaotic shores the last act and the last\\nremembrance of our transgressions And lastly, let the\\nuntarnished notes of Temperance be wafted from the\\nchaste bugle of Abstemiousness, till every ravine, dell\\nand valley shall re-echo with the sacred pathos of their\\nholiness", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0070.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "^oems\\nNIXON POINDEXTER CLINGMAN.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0071.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "I", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0072.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "PRAYER.\\nWhen the brow of morn is blushing\\nWith the kiss of early day,\\nAnd shafts of braided sunlight,\\nHalf hidden, glance the spray\\nAs the sleeping flowers awaken.\\nBow thyself and pray.\\nWhen the mellow waves of twilight,\\nFrom seas of shadow fall\\nOn ancient roof, and stdfeple weird,\\nAnd grey Cathedral wall\\nAs the wizard lifts his evening glass.\\nBow to the spirits call.\\nWhen the tearless hours, exulting,\\nThe midnight moments bring.\\nAnd the stars, with silver braces,\\nFrom beams of ether swing,\\nPray for Winter comes, remember,\\nAs well as Fairy Spring.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0073.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "64 Prayer.\\nPray For a holy benediction\\nComes over him who kneels,\\nAnd a sweet and strange influence\\nThe prostrate seeker feels\\nWhile music pure from Angel lips\\nAcross the stillness steals.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0074.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "GROWING OLD.\\nTwice thirty years their shadows weave,\\nMy mother, round thy brow,\\nAnd in the gloaming of life s eve\\nThy footsteps bear thee now\\nAnd thus the waning cycles wheel\\nTheir meteor flights away,\\nTill age doth on the pilgrim steal,\\nAs night-time doth the day.\\nAnd yet the rosy seasons seem\\nBut brief, whose sands are told,\\nSince at thy knee I knelt to dream\\nThat thou couldst not grow old\\nBut, ah like iris tints that braid\\nTheir streaks on Summer s sky,\\nOur wreaths of hope are only laid\\nOn shrines we love, to die.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0075.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "Growing Old.\\nTho still thy tones from those dead days,\\nLike hymns that blend with prayer,\\nAre whispered in my heart always,\\nAnd strike their peans there\\nAnd oft again I wander back,\\nFar in the realms of yore,\\nTo gaze thro tears upon that track\\nThy feet shall press no more.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0076.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "MY MOTHER.\\nWhen with gloom my soul s oppressed,\\nThere s only one whom I wish near,\\nFor with her I m wholly blessed\\nIt is my gentle mother dear.\\nGuides there are, sin to unmask,\\nAnd point to glory s sphere.\\nThough the only guide I ask\\nIs my gentle mother dear.\\nWhen fettered with death s icy chain\\nI m sleeping on my bier,\\nLet the first in the funeral train,\\nBe my gentle mother dear.\\nAnd should grace to me be given,\\nWhile I dwell in sadness here,\\nLet me when I rest in Heaven\\nMeet my gentle mother dear.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0077.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "DO ANGELS WEEP?\\nOn midnight clouds do Angels drift,\\nWhere their pure faces show,\\nAnd do they softly, sadly lift,\\nThe veil from earth below\\nAh if they do, the Angel band.\\nAs waves of sorrow leap\\nIn darkness o er a fallen land,\\nMust bow their heads and weep.\\nOn falling mists at twilight s eve,\\nWith snowy wings outspread.\\nDo Angels their far portals leave,\\nWith us unseen to tread\\nAh if they do, does not the chain,\\nThat souls through time will keep.\\nFettered, bound to deathless pain,\\nThe Angels cause to weep", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0078.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "Do Angels Weep 6g\\nOn evening winds do Angels ride.\\nWhen wearied stars are pale,\\nTo mourn upon the sin and pride,\\nThat dwell with mortals frail\\nAh if they do, with pitying sighs,\\nDo they not sorrowing sweep,\\nWith harps unstrung back to the skies\\nAnd there for mortals weep", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0079.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "THE SOLDIER S BURIAL.\\nLet him down, Oh, comrades, gently.\\nWind the flag about his breast\\nGaze the last time on his features,\\nThen consign him to his rest.\\nSee his pallid face defiant.\\nE en though cold by rigid death.\\nThe same look he wore in battle,\\nEre he gave the parting breath.\\nDrop the earth upon him softly,\\nLest you should his slumbers wake\\nAnd to keep a profound silence,\\nLest the stillness you should break.\\nRemember as you now forever\\nHide his form beneath the clay,\\nWhat fond hearts for him are beating,\\nBeating for him far away.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0080.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "T7ie Soldier s Burial. 7/\\nNow, as a vigil o er him watching,\\nThrough the lone and cheerless night,\\nPlace the tombstone we must leave him,\\nResting from the sanguine fight.\\nPause beside him, holy woman,\\nSpare him but a pitying tear,\\nHe met for you the fell invader,\\nNow he dreams within his bier.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0081.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "INSCRIBED TO A LADY.\\nThy name to me, loved one, is dear,\\nAnd sweet it is to have thee near,\\nWhen lonely\\nTho should we part by fate s decree,\\nI still shall ever faithful be,\\nTo thee only.\\nIf death should claim thy faultless charms,\\nAnd snatch thee with unpitying arms,\\nTo the tomb,\\nThy grave with tears I d oft bedew,\\nAnd seek a resting place near you,\\nIn my gloom.\\nMay nothing e er thy pure faith blast,\\nBut in peace thy Hfe be passed.\\nIn constant love\\nAnd then when in thy lonely mound.\\nThy soul with joy shall be crowned,\\nWith Him above.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0082.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "THE DROWNED MARINER.\\nThe snow-capped billow above him sweeps,\\nAs far down in the depth he sleeps,\\nMid the coral reefs alone\\nSea gulls scream their mournful wail\\nAbove the ghastly face so pale,\\nOf him whose spirit s flown.\\nHis lasting rest shall be unbroken\\nHis parting words on earth are spoken\\nHis couch is lone and dreary.\\nThe waves alone chant his sad dirge,\\nWhile they roll with sullen surge,\\nIn rage, and never weary.\\nAround his bier sea monsters roam,\\nAnd mermaids their long tresses comb.\\nAs they gaze with sadness\\nOn that cold and death-like form\\nThat once contained a heart so warm,\\nAnd eyes that beamed with gladness.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0083.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "74\\nThe Droivned Mariner.\\nHis briny locks by the sea are tossed,\\nWhile the bleak winds sigh Lost Lost\\nAs they murmur on\\nAnd the loved ones far away\\nFor their missing one still pray,\\nBut he s forever gone.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0084.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "COLONEL ASHBY.\\nSleep on, sleep on, lamented one,\\nThy compeers mourn for thee\\nThy warring with the foe is done,\\nThy gallant spirit s free.\\nSleep on, sleep on, thy solemn rest,\\nRepose as time rolls on.\\nThe Northmen tread above thy breast.\\nThe cause you loved is gone.\\nSleep on, sleep on, we miss thy tread.\\nThe South winds for thee sigh\\nLow in the ground among the dead,\\nYou with your vet rans lie.\\nSleep on, sleep on, amid the brave,\\nWho fell thy form beside\\nYour noble flag has ceased to wave,\\nTho for its folds you died.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0085.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "y6 Colonel Ashby.\\nSleep on, sleep on, for thee we weep.\\nThrough hours of saddened gloom\\nWithin our hearts we ll ever keep\\nThe cause that sealed your doom.\\nSleep on, thy name shall e er be sung,\\nAnd loved in coming ages\\nThy immortal deeds be found among\\nUndying fame s bright pages.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0086.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "TEMPERANCE SONG.\\nHaste to the crystal fountain,\\nWhere sparkHng waters dwell,\\nThat roll beside the mountain,\\nAnd wander through the dell.\\nCome, seek it as it s wending,\\nAmid the silent wood\\nList to its murmurs blending,\\nWith spirits of the good.\\nTis free to meek and lowly,\\nAnd cools the burning brow\\nIts limpid waves are holy,\\nTo its sacred temple bow.\\nAn adder s ever fawning\\nWhen brilliant nectar s near\\nErring man, have warning\\nDrink naught but water clear.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0087.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "y8 Temperance Song.\\nThe crimson draught alluring,\\nThat flashes in the bowl,\\nThy barque to death is mooring,\\nAnd sinking deep the soul.\\nWhene er the red decanter\\nWould lure thee on to sin,\\nAvoid the wild enchanter,\\nFor pain is hid within.\\nOur efforts we ve united\\nAgainst the ruby drink,\\nFor many hopes are blighted\\nUpon its fatal brink.\\nOur Temperance banner s flying\\n*Tis hallowed and divine\\nIts folds are now defying\\nThe snares of rosy wine.\\nTruth shall e er be guiding\\nThe ship on which we sail\\nOn waves of Faith we re riding,\\nAnd fanned by Honor s gale.\\nFor the drink we are contending,\\nThat the Holy Father gave\\nCome, join us, thou offending,\\nAnd shun the drunkard s grave.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0088.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "A SONG OF MAY.\\nWith sunlit brow and eager feet,\\nAll passion-eyed, the rosy May\\nSweeps from the South, full fair and sweet,\\nAnd strews her largess on the way\\nFor from her gracious hands there fall\\nRare sheaves of scented buds and blooms,\\nWhile mottled thrush and ring-dove call\\nTheir greetings from the forest glooms.\\nIn belts of gold the armored bees,\\nFrom flushing dawn till evening s gloam.\\nDrunk with the sweets of flowering leas,\\nReel with their honeyed conquests home\\nAnd clouds of bright-winged butterflies\\nAre flashing through the dreamful air,\\nAs fair on every landscape lies\\nA poem. May has penciled there.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0089.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "8o A Song of May.\\nThe vocal streams whose depths reveal\\nGlad visions of those perfect days,\\nLike silver songs thro woodlands steal\\nIn one triumphal psalm of praise\\nAnd floral stars like glories burn\\nIn meads of green, where lovers stroll,\\nWithin whose symbols we may learn\\nThe legend of the human soul.\\nA symphony mid graves where rest\\nThe shrouded dead, who sleep for aye,\\nShe hymns, and lo on earth are pressed\\nThe garlands of the fresh young May.\\nOf all the year, the sceptered Queen,\\nTo thee we loyal tribute pay\\nWe love thy moods thy shade, thy sheen\\nAnd grieve for thee, when gone, sweet May\\nA sense of worship fills the soul.\\nOur hearts with higher yearnings beat,\\nWhen Nature wins her farthest goal,\\nAnd we behold her thus complete.\\nBe thou a type. Oh perfect May,\\nOf peace beyond, and bid us feel\\nThat when life s winter drifts away,\\nSpring waits us in the Land of Leal.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0090.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "A WINTER SONG.\\nLike notes of sorrow, low intoned,\\nThrough souls that are bereft\\nThrough souls whose idols are dethroned,\\nWhen but their wrecks are left\\nThe low wind wakes its solemn choirs\\nThrough aisles of wood unplumed\\nOf leaves, that in pale funeral pyres\\nLie in the frost entombed.\\nAnd in the dim, strange solitudes.\\nThe song-bird sweeps no more\\nHis passion-harp, in love-lorn moods,\\nHe knew so well of yore\\nAnd thus within the heart sometimes,\\nWhen all its dreams are fled,\\nNo music wakes its happy chimes\\nIts minstrel, Hope, is dead.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0091.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "82 A Winter Song.\\nBut in the Spring again the leaves\\nThrough April days will glow,\\nAnd where the ghost of Beauty grieves\\nThe flowers again will blow\\nAnd where the mute bird in the gloom\\nNo longer trills his call,\\nAmid the Summer s tender bloom\\nHis sweetest notes shall fall.\\nThen from this simple lay take heart,\\nAnd from its moral learn\\nThat though our fairest hopes depart,\\nThose brighter may return\\nAnd if the skies sometimes grow dark\\nBefore the day is done.\\nSomewhere, beyond, a friendly spark\\nStill whispers of the sun.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0092.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "HOPE AND THE DEW-DROP.\\nDew-drops linger on the flower\\nTill upon them sunbeams steal\\nThen they vanish, and no longer\\nRoses their embraces feel\\nSo the buds of Hope that blossom\\nIn the garden of the heart,\\nLike the dew-drops from the roses,\\nNeath misfortune s touch depart.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0093.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "ON THE DEATH OF AN INFANT.\\nThy pure young form is rigid now,\\nIcy is thy polished brow,\\nBeneath the sod\\nThy cooing notes are hushed in death,\\nForever stilled is thy young breath,\\nBy God.\\nThe wintry winds in sadness sigh.\\nAs at evening they pass by,\\nWandering on\\nSad parents nightly weep for thee.\\nFor thy smiles no more they see.\\nSince thou art gone.\\nTho Christ who died upon the cross.\\nAssures thy mother in her loss,\\nThat it is gain\\nThat thy gentle soul has passed\\nFrom this vale of sin at last,\\nTo the Angel train.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0094.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "On the Death of an Infant. 85\\nMingling with pure throngs on high,\\nBeyond the diamond studded sky,\\nWhere Love reigns supreme,\\nSorrow thou canst never know,\\nBut anthems from thy Hps shall flow,\\nTo Him who can redeem.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0095.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "THE MANIAC.\\nNight her shades had thrown around,\\nThe dew of Heaven damped the ground,\\nWhile, by a new-made, lonely mound,\\nSank a mother s knee.\\nTo the hallowed grave she clung,\\nIn neglect her grey locks hung;\\nIn accents wild she madly sung\\nTo the passing breeze\\nIt is not so it ne er can be,\\nThat I never more shall see,\\nOr in my lonely arms clasp thee.\\nMy lost sleeping boy\\nYour couch is damp arise, my dear\\nWhy remain in thy silent bier\\nTo my throbbing heart draw near.\\nAnd give your mother joy.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0096.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "The Maniac. 8y\\nHe does not come it must be true,\\nThat he s bid me a last adieu,\\nAnd gone to the starry world of blue\\nThen I ll cease to rave.\\nWhen all was hushed in the gloomy night,\\nHer weary spirit winged its flight\\nThe sun arose next morning bright,\\nTo find her on his grave.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0097.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "TO A RIVER.\\nPlacidly I watch thee winding\\nOnward to the mighty deep,\\nScenes of old my soul reminding,\\nAs I on thy borders weep.\\nAs I watch thy wavelets flowing,\\nGently by thy rugged shore,\\nIt reminds me that I m going,\\nAs they, to return no more.\\nOft thy polished bosom s broken\\nBy the rude, relentless blast\\nSo some words when rudely spoken,\\nO er our hearts a pall will cast.\\nRoll on by, the ocean nearing.\\nFor each ripple on thy stream.\\nSouls to God will be appearing,\\nCrushed in Life s delusive dream", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0098.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "THE SHADOWY SHIP,\\nThey tell of a mystic river,\\nThat is fanned by spirit s breath,\\nAnd upon it there sails forever,\\nA barque whose name is Death.\\nAnd its pilot is ghastly standing.\\nAs he points in the silent gloom,\\nAcross to the dusky landing.\\nThat arises beyond the tomb.\\nIt sails and is never weary.\\nLike a wandering, restless ghost,\\nTo the river s margin dreary.\\nWith its grim, unearthly host.\\nFarewell by the loved is spoken,\\nAs embark the parting crew,\\nAnd back from the billows broken,\\nFor the last time comes Adieu", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0099.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "RAVENSWOOD.\\nThe crested trees in Ravenswood\\nLike muffled friars stand,\\nWhere she and I, long summers since,\\nWould wander hand in hand,\\nTo cull the starry blooms that grew\\nIn our sweet Lotus land.\\nTwas there she sang at evening-time\\nTo me so soft and low,\\nThe sinless songs of peace and love\\nShe knew so long ago,\\nBut which the fateful years, alas\\nHave silenced in their flow.\\nFor mid the glooms of Ravenswood\\nThe winds of Summer moan.\\nAnd sigh to me from unseen lips\\nThou art at last alone\\nUntil my soul goes pleading up,\\nAh give me back mine own", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0100.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "Ravenswood. gi\\nOh lifeless eyes with marble lids,\\nOh bosom stilled for aye,\\nTis ever thus that beauty dies,\\nAnd love yields to decay,\\nBut in the restful Land of Leal\\nThey are renewed some day.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0101.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "EVA WHITE.\\nA BALLAD.\\nNow the mystic days of Spring,\\nA languor earth sheds o er\\nAnd the coral roses cHng\\nAround the latticed door.\\nAs the pensive moon s pale face,\\nLooks down upon the night,\\nI mourn for her in death s embrace,\\nI weep for my Eva White.\\nShrouded neath the winding dell.\\nWhere dancing sunlight beams,\\nA spotless cross will ever tell.\\nWhere my gentle maiden dreams.\\nOft, oft I go when none are near.\\nWith floral garlands bright,\\nAnd strew them on the sacred bier,\\nOf my lonely Eva White.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0102.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "Eva White. gg\\nAbove the skies in Heaven now,\\nPure angels fondly twine\\nA wreath of love about her brow,\\nBefore their Savior s shrine.\\nNothing from my saddened soul,\\nCan her dear image blight,\\nNor erase from mem ry s scroll,\\nThe name of my Eva White.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0103.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "LINES SUGGESTED ON LEAVING\\nWHITE RIVER, ARKANSAS.\\nAs I glide down thy waters, Oh noble White River,\\nAnd gaze sadly down on thy deep rolling tide,\\nI remember the scenes that have parted forever.\\nEnjoyed in youth on thy green blooming side.\\nThy flowery banks long ago I have cherished.\\nAs in boyish glee I wandered along,\\nAnd flattered the hopes that years back have perished,\\nAnd heard with rapture thy murmuring song.\\nAdieu now, fair River, I ll think of thy stream.\\nTo my sad heart you shall ever be dear\\nMy wandering footsteps have blasted the dream\\nOf dwelHng beside thy deep water so clear.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0104.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "THE PALE BRIGADE, OR THE\\nKU-KLUX KLAN.\\nSee the ghastly daggers flashing,\\nOf the midnight, spectral band.\\nPale the Centaur, foremost dashing,\\nGrimly leads his wild command\\nListen to their hurried breathing,\\nAs each one his thirsty dirk,\\nIs with crimson hand unsheathing,\\nTo commence his deadly work\\nSee the gory ensign flying,\\nFrom the scarlet staff they bear\\nHear their mystic orders dying,\\nFaintly on the startled air\\nFrom above the moon looks sadly,\\nOn the solemn ranks arrayed.\\nAnd the glens and forests madly.\\nSternly shout The Pale Brigade", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0105.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "g6 The Pale Brigade, or the Kii-Klux Klan.\\nOnward they are marching slowly,\\nIn the silent, ghost-like gloom,\\nAnd they whisper, guarded, lowly.\\nSome oppressor s fearful doom.\\nSee you not the Centaur kneeling,\\nAs a signal to them now.\\nAnd the wrathful look that s stealing\\nSwiftly o er his sunken brow\\nEach his wand is fiercely waving,\\nAnd they murmur loud the cry\\nThey who Southrons are enslaving,\\nShall themselves be made to die\\nAnd there stands a Brutus, tearless.\\nIn each shroud the band contains.\\nWho will strike the Despot, fearless,\\nWho would bind his land in chains.\\nPerched within each valley sweeping\\nO er the South s invaded shrine,\\nMercy s Angel there is weeping\\nAt a Nation s sad decline.\\nAnd the Pale Brigade is wending,\\nMid a people now oppressed.\\nAnd their oaths are ever blending,\\nThat their wrongs shall be redressed.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0106.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "LINES ON THE DEATH OF LITTLE PEARL.\\nThe Savior upon a sorrowing land\\nWith pitying eye looked down,\\nAnd raising the Pearl with glowing hand,\\nHe placed it upon his Crown.\\nFor the dimpled arms are folded now,\\nAnd the flowers of Summer kiss\\nThe palely cold and colorless brow\\nOf the Angel babe we miss.\\nBut down thro the silent realms of night,\\nBy the side of her tear-bathed bed,\\nSeraphs will come in the still starlight\\nTo watch o er the early dead.\\nLike the bubble upon the treacherous tide,\\nFlashing in beautiful tint, then gone,\\nShe vanished from earth, she meekly died.\\nAs in Heaven they beckoned her on.\\nAnd radiant now as the burning gem\\nAsleep on the fairy wave.\\nShe s wearing the glittering diadem\\nThat lighted her over the grave.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0107.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "g8 Lines on the Death of Little Pearl.\\nTho the fairest bud is the first to fade\\nIn the wreaths of the perfumed Spring,\\nAnd our brightest hopes are the soonest laid,\\nIn the shadow of Sorrow s wing.\\nWe should not mourn, for she is at rest,\\nFar away on a happier shore.\\nAnd pillowed upon her Redeemer s breast.\\nShe s whispering the loved ones o er.\\nDeparted young Pearl, the passion flower.\\nThe violet modest, and rose,\\nWith their incense soft in evening s hour,\\nWill guard thy hushed repose.\\nAnd when the Autumn in purple leaps\\nOn the lingering Summer s bier.\\nAnd Winter over the dead year weeps.\\nAs the endless night draws near.\\nThe snow s white arms will purely fold\\nIn tenderness o er thy tomb.\\nAs an emblem pure of thy peace untold\\nIn the home where comes not gloom.\\nFor the winds of the South that murmur along,\\nSob ever in tremulous tone;\\nJoy is borne in the accents of song\\nShe sings by her Maker s Throne.", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0108.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "THE SIMILE.\\nDown beside a crystal stream,\\nWhich reflected each sunbeam,\\nThat upon it fell,\\nI, at quiet evening strolled,\\nGazing on it while it rolled.\\nThrough the dell.\\nLilies near its margin grew,\\nAnd flowers of each varied hue.\\nSprung around\\nSongsters in the cypress trees,\\nSang their sweetest melodies,\\nIn pensive sound.\\nWhile I wandered thus alone.\\nMy image in its mirror shone,\\nI paused to look\\nThough as I peered upon its bed.\\nBreezes thro the woodland fled,\\nAnd marred the brook.\\nL.\u00c2\u00abfC.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0109.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "loo The Simile, i\\n1\\nThus it is with Life, thought I,\\nWith a long and wearied sigh\\nI sadly gave\\nFor the fondest hopes we cherish,\\nLike that image quickly perish.\\nOn Time s wave.\\nI\\nI", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0110.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "SONG.\\nCome to me, Clara, while the pale moon is beaming.\\nFrom the exalted dominion she holds\\nCome to me now, while the dew-drops are gleaming\\nFrom the Maid flowers luxuriant folds.\\nLet thy silvery voice cheer my spirits so weary,\\nFor I pine for thy presence to cheer me again\\nAs sunbeams illumine the earth when it s dreary.\\nThy coming can turn to pleasures my pain.\\nThe Egyptian darkness the world should o erpower,\\nAnd sit grandly forth from its throne of deep black,\\nThe flash of thine eyes, like a meteoric shower,\\nWould dispel its impression and drive its shades back.\\nHaste, peerless maid, for the soft breeze is sighing\\nTo cast its caresses on thine image so dear\\nAnd to their murmurs my heart is replying\\nSoon she will come and be with us here\\nMid the glades of the meadow I see her appearing\\nHer step, so elastic, starts the near sleeping fawn\\nI ll hasten to meet her her words shall be cheering\\nThe heart that beats for her till day s coming dawn.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0111.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "THE STORY OF A GOAT.\\nA TRAGEDY.\\nA William Goat, well up in war,\\nThere was, with a fierce goatee,\\nThat travelled on his muscle, for\\nA robust goat was he\\nNo other goat in his bailiwick\\nHad won such wide renown.\\nFor he could hump himself and lick\\nJust any goat in town.\\nOh this galoot of a goat, you bet,\\nFought at his own sweet will.\\nFor he butted everything he met,\\nAnd he butted it to kill\\nHe butted right and he butted left.\\nAs the zig-zag lightning springs.\\nAnd many a goat he had bereft\\nOf horns and eyes and things.\\nI", "height": "3442", "width": "2168", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0112.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "The Story of a Goat. lo^\\nHe used to lunch on old scrap tin,\\nHe slept in the open air,\\nAnd William s Hfe was a round of sin,\\nAnd his home was anywhere\\nAn awful life was the life he led.\\nAnd he never cared to mend\\nHis ways, while those who knew him said\\nHe d come to some bad end.\\nOne jocund morn some bock-beer kegs\\nMet William s steadfast gaze.\\nAnd he straightened up on his hind legs,\\nAnd viewed them in amaze\\nHe looked askance at his photograph\\nOn the end of the festive bock,\\nAnd then he charged, with a mocking laugh.\\nAnd there was a dreadful shock.\\nHe struck that photo like a shot\\nAnd here our story halts\\nAnd the air grew very thick, I wot,\\nWith numerous somersaults\\nThat W. Goat lay there a wreck.\\nThe last of all his line,\\nThe shock had telescoped his neck\\nAway back in his spine.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0113.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "SOLITUDE.\\nThro mountains wild tis sweet to roam,\\nWhere erring man ne er trod,\\nTo dwell in Nature s tranquil home,\\nAnd note the works of God\\nTo watch the sun s departing rays,\\nAs at eve it sinks to rest.\\nAnd to give our Maker praise,\\nWho rules the sacred Blest.\\nAnd when twilight s gently stealing\\nThro the dark and sombre wood,\\nThen there comes the mystic feeling\\nThat reminds us to do good.\\nYes dear, tho pensive Solitude,\\nI court your magic spell,\\nAnd love to wander mid the haunts\\nWhere you are wont to dwell.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0114.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "LINES ON THE DEATH OF DIANA SIMMS.\\n(^Infant Daughter of Dr. G. L. and Mollie G. Kir by.\\nBackward on their jasper hinges,\\nWere the Gates of Glory pressed,\\nWhen her baby hands were folded,\\nLike twin lilies, on her breast\\nFor adown the amber evening,\\nIn the twilight of the day,\\nSoftly came the Angel-beings,\\nAnd she went with them away.\\nThough she lifted up Life s chalice,\\nEre she could its sweetness sip,\\nThe devoted cup was shattered\\nWhile it trembled at her lip\\nThus her infant days were ended,\\nLike some bud that dieth ere\\nIt hath bursted into blossom.\\nIn the Spring-time of the year.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0115.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "io6 Lines on the Death of Diana Simms.\\nForward on their jasper hinges,\\nSwung the Gates of Glory to,\\nWhen the baby-pilgrim s spirit\\nPlumed itself and vanished thro\\nAnd upon her brow the Father\\nPlaced His signet as Pie smiled,\\nDrew her to His glowing bosom,\\nAnd embraced the Angel-child.", "height": "3442", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0116.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "THERE IS NOTHING REAL.\\nThe blushing- rose that meekly bends\\nIts leaflets o er the lawn,\\nIts early beauty only lends\\nBut to conceal a thorn.\\nThe dreaded asp, its colors bright,\\nIs given but to shield\\nThe venom that denotes its bite,\\nThe poison it can wield.\\nThe Dead Sea fruit grows to allure.\\nBeside the ocean s spray.\\nAnd only seems inviting, pure,\\nOn the lip to fade away.\\nThe jeweled cup, with nectar fair,\\nBut tempts the thoughtless eye,\\nTo have inscribed, secreted there,\\nCome, drink of me and die", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0117.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "THE LONG AGO.\\nA voice is borne from the buried Years,\\nAnd it whispers strangely low\\nA requiem in our wearied ears,\\nOf things in the Long Ago.\\nIt comes in the early morning s gray,\\nAt the sunset s dying glow,\\nAnd it tells of things that are passed away,\\nThat went with the Long Ago.\\nIt lingering, tells of the marble face\\nThat sleeps where the flowers blow.\\nAnd on it again the beauty we trace\\nThat it wore in the Long Ago.\\nWith every gale it trembles along.\\nFrom spring to the winter s snow.\\nAnd the burden lone of its weeping song\\nIs things of the Long Ago.\\nIt startles us with its chiding tone.\\nWhen memories backward flow,\\nTo dwell on the hours forever gone,\\nMisspent in the Long Ago.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0118.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "THE LOST SHIP.\\nThe madden d sea in waves rode high,\\nBlack as ink was the threatening sky,\\nAnd sad as death the piercing cry,\\nOf those who perished.\\nAbove them far, the thunder rolled.\\nAnd their death-knell plainly toll d.\\nWhile shook the ship from mast to hold\\nThe ship they cherished.\\nA deaf ning crash, then a glaring light,\\nLit up the sea on that dark night.\\nAnd none can paint a sadder sight,\\nFor the ship was burning\\nNone escaped each found a grave\\nBeneath a pitiless foaming wave.\\nAnd those at home still madly rave\\nFor their returning.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0119.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "TO A WAVE.\\nTell me, restless Wave, thy mission,\\nRippling- o er the starlit sea\\nDost thou, in thy wearied murmur,\\nBreathe a song of grief to me\\nOr dost thou some mournful token\\nBring us of a land unknown,\\nWhere fair Science never lingered,\\nBut where Error dwells alone\\nHast thou never-falling tresses\\nBraided round the mermaid s brow.\\nAnd in thy deceptive wooing,\\nLeft her watching for thee now\\nLeft her on her couch of coral.\\nSighing for thee day by day\\nAnd, unmindful of her sorrow,\\nKeepest thou thy careless way", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0120.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "To a Wave. in\\nBut, alas the Wave has vanished,\\nLike a spectre, drifting on\\nFaded ere I knew twas dying-\\nFaded ere my words were gone.\\nThough tis only a sad emblem\\nOf each hope the heart contains,\\nFor of that which now we cherish,\\nOn to-morrow naught remains.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0121.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "THE RIVER OF YEARS.\\nThrough the ruins of time the River of Years\\nFlows on with a murmur of pain\\nFor its vanishing ripples are human tears\\nThat beating the margin the mariner hears,\\nAs down its current his vessel he steers,\\nTo stem it not back again.\\nWe look to its verge as we drift along.\\nAt our images fallen there\\nWhile Memory spirits around us throng,\\nAnd pointing to them, with desolate song,\\nFrom viewless lips they whisper of wrong.\\nAnd sin, and neglected prayer.\\nThere s a shadow that hangs on the turbulent tide.\\nWhere the voyagers pass and part\\nAnd in it we glimpse the blossoms that died,\\nThe blossoms of Hope that we were denied.\\nWhen the destiny demon dashed them aside,\\nAnd smiled at the wounded heart.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0122.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "The River of Years. iij\\nBut thus we are borne to the evening of rest,\\nAs we greet the unsounded sea\\nWhere pitying ones on the Isle of the Blest\\nAre waiting to welcome the stranger guest,\\nThe pilgrim spirit by sorrow oppressed,\\nWhile debarred of eternity.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0123.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "THE GRANITE STONE.\\nBy the quaint old church there s a granite stone\\nWith a name that I love thereon,\\nBut In Memoriam is scarcely traced\\nThro the clinging vines, that are interlaced\\nAround the guardian stone defaced,\\nBy the track of the seasons gone.\\nBy the quaint old church there s a granite stone,\\nAnd it hideth a sainted brow\\nTwo sinless hands that are whitely pressed\\nTogether above a pulseless breast,\\nAnd a quiet form, that is palely dressed\\nIn a snow-white garment now,\\nBy the quaint old church there s a granite stone,\\nAnd it telleth a tale of grief\\nFor under its shadow my heart remains,\\nAnd only a sorrowful song contains.\\nWhose music, sad, forever complains\\nThat her life should be so brief.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0124.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "The Granite Stone. u^\\nBy the quaint old church there s a granite stone,\\nAnd gloomier now is the chime\\nOf the belfry bell on the Sabbath air,\\nThan it was when she, of the sunlit hair,\\nAnd a voice more sweet than a seraph s prayer,\\nKnelt there in the olden time.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0125.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "DEPARTED.\\nA voice as soft as the brooklet s song,\\nThat whispers to the shore,\\nAnd one that we have loved so long,\\nShall gladden us no more\\nFor when the frost of Autumn fell\\nUpon the saddened flowers,\\nIt chilled her, and we bade farewell\\nUnto this bud of ours.\\nAnd now the sculptured marble keeps\\nA sentry at her side,\\nPointing where she palely sleeps,\\nAnd telling how she died.\\nTho when the golden stars we trace\\nMid dimly falling dew,\\nWe still behold her radiant face,\\nWith Angels peering through", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0126.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "Departed. ny\\nAnd when the twilight shadows kiss,\\nAt eve, the silver streams,\\nThe gentle tones of her we miss\\nCome on the air, it seems.\\nTis then her hand again we clasp,\\nAnd stay our anguished tears,\\nWhile in return we feel the grasp\\nShe gave in other years.\\nThough dead, within an early tomb,\\nThe faded flower is lain.\\nWe know that it will brightly bloom\\nAbove with God again.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0127.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "REFLECTIONS BESIDE A RIVER.\\nAlone beside the stream I m sitting,\\nLooking on its rippling tide,\\nIn its lonely course fast flitting.\\nCloser to the ocean wide.\\nEbbing slowly down the river,\\nMingling with each parting wave.\\nBubbles one could watch forever.\\nAsk your gaze then find a grave.\\nIt is thus our hopes all leave us,\\nLike the bubbles quit the stream\\nEnchant us only to deceive us.\\nYield us to Delusion s dream.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0128.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "SIX SIMILES.\\nLife is like the flashing streamlet s\\nSwiftly hurrying, thoughtless wave,\\nThat goes laughing to the river\\nThat goes singing to its grave.\\nHope is like the transient flower s\\nSweetly perfumed, gentle breath,\\nThat makes glad the balmy spring-time,\\nAnd at autumn yields to death.\\nLove is like the wind-harp s music,\\nTrembling from the moonlit lawn.\\nSighing at your lattice briefly,\\nThen on wanton wing is gone.\\nBeauty s like the fading dew-drop.\\nComing on when dies the day.\\nAnd at morning s burnished footstep.\\nWeeps its pure young self away.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0129.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "120 Six Similes.\\nFame is like the virgin snowflake,\\nThat to earth s cold bosom s won,\\nTo remain a fickle moment,-\\nThen depart before the sun.\\nWealth is like the ruby spirit,\\nThat keeps vigil o er the wine.\\nLeading man, with its deception.\\nTo destruction at its shrine.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0130.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "COMMEMORATING THE OPENING OF THE\\nMESSENGER OPERA HOUSE,\\nAt Goldsboro, N. C, December 21, 1881.\\nOur City s queen, complete and fair,\\nWith glad acclaim we bow\\nBefore thy shrine, and happy there\\nWe consecrate thee now.\\nUpon thy boards the godlike shades\\nOf Garrick, Booth and Keen,\\nShall linger through the long decades\\nTo guard them well I ween.\\nAnd Avon s Bard from shadowland\\nShall wake his spirit pen.\\nWhen he beholds his heroes stand\\nUpon thy stage again.\\nHere Tragedy shall ask the tear,\\nHere Comedy the smile,\\nHere, scenes as sad as those of Lear,\\nTo those of mirth beguile.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0131.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "122 Messenger Opera House Opening.\\nHere is a theme of human art,\\nAnd here a theme for human pen\\nThe noblest thoughts that stir our heart,\\nShall here revisioned be again.\\nAnd let these lines commemorate\\nA pile that we revere.\\nAn obelisk that time nor fate\\nShall never make less dear.\\nA thing of beauty, trim and grand,\\nTo-night ye proudly rise,\\nA monument that long shall stand\\nTo Worth and Enterprise.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0132.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "THE DRUMMER BOY OF BOWLING GREEN.\\nThe battle s fearful din had hushed,\\nWearied soldiers sought for rest\\nThe crimson tide in torrents gushed\\nFrom a wound in Carlton s breast.\\nThe foe had given up the fight,\\nSouthern arms had vict ry seen,\\nAnd bleeding lay thro out the night\\nThe Drummer Boy of Bowling Green.\\nHis comrades stood by his young form,\\nAnd sadly watched his parting breath,\\nFor well they knew his heart so warm\\nWould soon lie motionless in death.\\nI fear not death, he calmly said\\nUpon my Maker s staff I lean\\nThen heard the Angels holy tread,\\nThe Drummer Boy of Bowling Green.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0133.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "124 Drummer Boy of Bowling Green.\\nAh fellow-soldiers, Carlton spake,\\nDraw nearer to my rude bedside\\nA blessing to my mother take,\\nThen tell her how her Carlton died.\\nHis weary spirit soared its flight\\nAbove the shining star-decked screen\\nThey buried there, at soft twilight,\\nThe Drummer Boy of Bowling Green.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0134.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "SEA-SIDE MUSINGS.\\nOut in the arms of the slumbering hours,\\nThe Sea Hes languidly dim,\\nAnd sentinel stars in tremulous showers\\nTrace images bright on its brim\\nBut, like the enchantments, deceptive when born,\\nThese phantoms of gold will pale at the morn.\\nOut in the silence the ocean weed stoops\\nTill its tresses are trailing the tide,\\nAnd it seemeth a mourner that sorrowing droops\\nO er the tombs of the loved that have died\\nBut, as death to the watcher awaiting the grave,\\nThe tempest will come it must sink in the wave.\\nFaint o er the water the soft falling notes\\nOf the fairy Gondola low blend.\\nWith cadence so pure that we dream Angel throats\\nThe soul-stealing music attend\\nBut, like the sequel to pleasures of man,\\nTis o er and we re sadder than ere it began.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0135.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "THE WHITE ROSE BUD.\\nAs a lone pearl nestled upon the snow,\\nA white Rose Bud fell gracefully low\\nBeside her innocent brow\\nAnd still I can trace the Rose Bud white,\\nAnd the beautiful brow that it press d that night,\\nFor they are remembered now\\nThough many a month that will come no more\\nHas gone since the white Rose Bud she wore,\\nClasped in her golden hair\\nFor the flowers since then have kissed the plain,\\nAnd withered and chilled, they too have lain.\\nFaded and dying there.\\nOf her sinless soul a pure emblem alone,\\nA symbol of, when the years have flown\\nAnd we seek the other shore.\\nThe stainless robe that she shall wear\\nThe beautiful one with the golden hair.\\nIn Heaven for evermore.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0136.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS GREETING,\\n1867.\\nWritten for Carriers of the Goldsboro News,\\nThe Year of Sixty-seven s dying,\\nSinking backward in the past,\\nAnd the wind of Winter s sighing.\\nThus to give it up at last.\\nSnowflakes that are now descending,\\nAnd each one its beauty shows,\\nWith the woods and rivers blending.\\nWarn us sadly of its close.\\nWhen this year you sat at leisure,\\nAnd for science would peruse.\\nLooking o er with eye of pleasure\\nLiterature that graced the News\\nRemember that the Carrier Boy,\\nWith sure, tho wearied tread,\\nWould bring to you with eager joy,\\nThe items which you read.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0137.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "128 Christmas Greeting, i86y.\\nThro the bleak days of December\\nIn the sun of sultry May,\\nEach of you can well remember,\\nHow he brought them on each day\\nNews of almost every Nation,\\nThat s beyond the ocean s foam,\\nAnd of every speculation\\nThat was going on at home.\\nTales of love, and tales of romance,\\nTo repel the hours of care,\\nWhen you d down its columns glance,\\nCould be seen embodied there.\\nThen donate to him some token\\nFor the good which he has done\\nAssure him that his toil unbroken,\\nMany friends for him has won.\\nWhen in peaceful visions sleeping.\\nYou were dreaming in your rest.\\nHe, his vigil then was keeping,\\nO er the roller and the press.\\nCan you now forget his hardship\\nNo it seems I hear you say,\\nThen give to him a current scrip\\nAnd he ll rejoice upon his way.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0138.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS GREETING,\\n1872.\\nWritten for the Carriers of the Carolina Messenger?)\\nLike mourners on the wintry sky\\nThe black clouds come and go,\\nAnd pale the frozen blossoms lie\\nWrapped in the tufted snow,\\nAs the old Year staggers by\\nBeneath his weight of woe\\nThen let us hope his happier heir\\nWill crown our hearts with peace,\\nAnd scatter far each blighting care\\nTill we weep his decease.\\nOnce again the Messeyiger Carrier,\\nWith his words of kindly cheer,\\nBears his papers to its patrons\\nAs he hath throughout the year\\nAs he hath in the bright Spring-season\\nWhen the lawn was starred with buds,", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0139.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "1^0 Christmas Greeting, i8y2.\\nAnd the air was glad with the music\\nThat swept down from the pulseful woods\\nAs he hath in the lurid Summer,\\nWhen the sun grew fierce and red,\\nLike a coal aglow in the Heavens\\nWhen the winds of the North were dead\\nAs he hath in the painted Autumn,\\nWhen the song-bird s vanished trill\\nCame no longer adown the forest.\\nCeased its melody on the hill\\nAs he hath when the ghastly Winter\\nThrew his white shield from his breast,\\nTore the light plumes from his helmet\\nIn his wrath and wild unrest.\\nTis a journal read by thousands,\\nYoung and old, and grave and gay,\\nAnd swerves not upon the mission\\nIt fulfills from day to day\\nPlainly have its themes been handled,\\nSolely for the people s good.\\nAnd unswerving still the platform\\nOn which it so long hath stood.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0140.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "Christmas Greeting, i8y2, iji\\nWhether crimes were in high places\\nOr mid humbler walks of men,\\nIt hath torn the mass from mischief,\\nWhile truth perched upon its pen\\nIt hath frowned on the usurper,\\nWho would public rights o erthrow,\\nAnd the meed of praise awarded\\nThose who struggled gainst the blow.\\nIt hath plead alone for Justice,\\nBattling in the ranks of Right,\\nCareless of the foe s displeasure\\nAt a time when wrong was might\\nAnd from out its ample columns\\nVoices have gone forth that bore\\nTidings of our worthy merchants\\nAnd our grocers o er and o er.\\nIt hath counseled with the Farmer,\\nWho doth till our fruitful land,\\nAnd the steel-nerved, stout Mechanic\\nArmed with art and iron hand\\nTold of each trade and profession\\nIn the varied scope of man.\\nOf pursuits that have been followed\\nEver since the years began.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0141.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "1^2 Christmas Greeting, i8y2.\\nAnd now, Adieu the Carrier Boy\\nHath sung his Christmas lay,\\nAnd wishes all unfettered joy\\nThis glad December day,\\nAnd happiness without alloy\\nTill time hath passed away.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0142.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS GREETING,\\n1883.\\nWritte7i for fas. F. Collins, Carrier of the\\nGoldsboro Messenger, Established 1867.\\nLike pilgrims, near two thousand years\\nHave passed, all hoar and gray,\\nSince Bethlehem s Christ child was born,\\nOn this our Christmas day\\nFrom thus far back, and up the drift\\nOf all those years there thrill.\\nLike Sabbath chimes, divinely sweet,\\nTo man, Peace and Good-will\\nGray-bearded Time, with sickle keen,\\nAnd glass in solemn hand,\\nDoth smite the dying Year amain,\\nIn every clime and land\\nGray-bearded Time who cuts his sheaf\\nFrom out his ample field\\nThe sheaf which is the fading year,\\nThe fading year the yield.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0143.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "7j^ Christmas Greeting, i88j.\\nYet, as we gather round the board,\\nThere are no tears in wait,\\nFor tis the day we weave in song\\nAnd come to celebrate\\nThen let dissensions be forgot,\\nAnd feuds and discord cease,\\nIn this, the era of Good-will,\\nThat shines through smiles of Peace.\\nAt every hearth may sweet Content\\nTo-day sit as a guest.\\nAnd may the Christmas sun go down\\nAnd leave no soul unblest\\nMay Providence guard every home,\\nAnd shield it from mishap.\\nAnd Plenty pour her largess down\\nIn Poverty s wan lap\\nAnd now, before we say Adieu,\\nOr close our Christmas lay.\\nDo not forget the Carrier Boy\\nWho greets his friends to-day\\nThe Carrier Boy who all the year,\\nThro sun, thro midnight dews,\\nBore patiently your paper round.\\nThat you might have the news.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0144.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "Christmas Greeting, r88j. /j\u00c2\u00bb5\\nYou ve seen our paper, upward still,\\nClimb to its present height,\\nTill seven thousand gladdened homes\\nAre blessing it to-night\\nThe Messenger s best wishes too,\\nIts patrons all attend\\nMay Peace walk with them down the years,\\nAnd bless them to the end", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0145.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "CHRISTMAS GREETING,\\n1884.\\nWritten for Carriers of the Goldsboro Messenger?)\\nOn the passing Year there is a blight,\\nAnd his brow is traced with care,\\nFor the snows of age are resting white\\nOn his flowing beard and hair\\nBut a short twelvemonth agone, and he\\nCame forth in his happy prime,\\nAnd now with sorrowing heart, we see\\nHim wrecked in the storm of Time.\\nBut let us away with vain regret.\\nFor the years, like mortals, die,\\nAnd the human heart is gladdest yet,\\nMayhap, that gives no sigh\\nTho the fond old Year scarce Hngers, still,\\nThe Christmas bells ring clear.\\nAnd everywhere Peace and Good-will\\nOn the crystal air we hear.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0146.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "Christmas Greeting, 1884. i^y\\nTo-day calls up the star-born psalm\\nThat swept the Eastern plain,\\nWhen the infant Jesus came with balm\\nFor a world enthralled in pain\\nThen hallowed be this Christmas-tide,\\nAnd let each voice proclaim\\nHim Sovereign who was crucified,\\nAnd bless His sainted name\\nIn all our borders no alarms\\nOf strife nor carnage tell,\\nBut Peace holds out her snow-white arms\\nAnd whispers All is well\\nOur Country free, her altars blest,\\nAll plenty-strewn her ways.\\nWe have full cause for such bequest\\nTo bow our heads in praise.\\nAnd now a word to our patrons all\\nIn a flaming tempest tossed\\nBut yesterday, again we call,\\nAnd smile at the holocaust\\nWe bear a greeting to each friend,\\nFor m.alice we have none,\\nAnd the hand of fellowship extend\\nTo our readers, every one.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0147.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "TOKENS.\\nAh these are the blossoms\\nYou wove in her hair\\nThese blooms of the orange,\\nIn her maidenhood rare,\\nWhen her life was a poem\\nAnd her song was a prayer.\\nAnd these are the slippers\\nHer fairy feet trod,\\nThese sHppers of satin\\nUntouched by the sod,\\nSince the ladder of stars\\nLead her up to her God.\\nWell, lay them by softly\\nTho stained with a tear.\\nThey are none the less sacred,\\nNor none the less dear.\\nTo a heart that is hidden\\nIn the Urn at the bier.", "height": "3432", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0148.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "SUNSET.\\nThe golden hues of Sunset\\nHow they gild the western sky.\\nAnd the flying clouds in Heaven,\\nAs they float in beauty by\\nWatch the phantom shadows chasing\\nOne the other, woodlands o er,\\nGliding onward, ne er retracing,\\nBut progressing as before.\\nHear the low wind s moaning rustle,\\nAs it wails across the lake.\\nAnd then know the sad emotion,\\nThat it can in hearts awake.\\nSee the hallowed tints of twilight.\\nAs they dimly hide the plain,\\nThen sink slowly into darkness,\\nLeaving man in night again.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0149.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "RETROSPECTION.\\nWhere the cypress tree is waving,\\nClose beside the river s shore,\\nAnd the swan at eve is laving,\\nList ning to its drowsy roar,\\nIn the starlight I m recalling\\nHappy moments vanished here\\nWhile the withered leaves are falling\\nRound me from the branches near.\\nOn this hallowed spot reclining,\\nIn the silent night alone,\\nMem ry bright is fondly twining,\\nWith my dreams forever flown\\nFor twas here in pleasure s morning,\\nThat my boyish footsteps trod.\\nAnd a mother s gentle warning,\\nBade me give my heart to God.", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0150.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "Retrospection. 141\\nThough the home is fast decaying^,\\nThat I loved years since with pride,\\nAnd the night air s wildly playing,\\nThrough the moss upon its side\\nPale the rays are faintly streaming,\\nFrom the distant lamps of night,\\nOn the tombstones where are dreaming\\nLoved ones robed in changeless white.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0151.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "IN MEMORIAM.\\nLo Our Southern Cross is broken,\\nAnd to-day with grief unspoken,\\nWe do honor to our dead,\\nWho fell at the war-drum s throbbing\\nWhen the great South-heart was sobbing\\nThat her children vainly bled.\\nYouth and age, and star-eyed maiden.\\nCome with braided blossoms laden,\\nSorrowing in their holy trust\\nAnd above each casket bending.\\nWith their anthem prayers ascending.\\nStrew them o er the warrior-dust.\\nWorks of grandeur perish never\\nTheirs shall flash for aye and ever\\nThrough the ages of all time\\nAnd are linked to deathless glory,\\nWhile both song and wondrous story\\nThey shall ever make sublime.", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0152.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "In Memoriam. 14^\\nFrom each grave a legend s glowing,\\nWhispered in sad music flowing\\nTo us from the buried years,\\nWith an eloquence that s undying\\nOf that folded banner lying\\nUnderneath a people s tears.\\nFor us white-plumed Murats dashing\\nWhere the fires of death were flashing\\nBrightest in the crimson fray,\\nWent they with their colors streaming,\\nWith each star defiant gleaming,\\nThese dead Heroes of the Grey", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0153.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "A REQUIEM.\\nWhen I am gone, no lettered cross\\nRear o er my coffined head,\\nWith chiseled verse of shallow praise,\\nNor gloomy Urn where Sorrow pays\\nHer tribute to the dead.\\nWhen I am gone, no cypress dark\\nPlace at my leveled tomb,\\nTo hang its funeral banners there,\\nAnd dirges hymn in Autumn s air\\nWhen flowerets cease to bloom.\\nWhen I am gone, no mournful lyre\\nAwake with farewell song\\nFor darkly from each shattered string\\nRemorseful memories would spring\\nTo chide a life of wrong.\\nWhen I am gone, no senseless wreath\\nOf wild buds braid for me\\nFor they will die, as Hope does now.\\nAs Summer dies on Autumn s brow.\\nOr star-ghosts on the sea.", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0154.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "THE DEAD MAIDEN.\\nA LEGEND OF THE WOOD.\\nTradition tells that once a Maid\\nDeep within a forest strayed.\\nWhere the flowers bloom and fade\\nIn the twilight golden\\nIts pensive wooings had beguiled\\nHer footsteps to its bosom wild,\\nFor the Sylvan God then smiled\\nIn this glen of olden.\\nDiana, with her silver bow.\\nReflected in the brooklet s flow.\\nAs it murmured music low,\\nThe Maid alluring only\\nAnd the light wind s mournful surge\\nBreathed a low and solemn dirge,\\nAs its sighings would emerge\\nThro the forest lonelv.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0155.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "1^6 The Dead Maiden.\\nPurple grapes in clusters hung\\nBranches of the trees among,\\nWhere the tendrils closely clung,\\nOf the wildwood flowers\\nThere the sad and plaintive note\\nFrom the plumaged minstrel s throat,\\nWould across the forest float,\\nTo enchant the hours.\\nUntil the King of Day far west,\\nRobed in crimson sank to rest,\\nAnd the linnet sought its nest,\\nNothing warned the Maiden\\nThat her lonely roamings then,\\nAmid the wood and tangled fen,\\nWere within a haunted glen\\nWith legends overladen.\\nQuick aroused by sudden thought.\\nQuick as by Magician brought,\\nTo retrace her steps she sought.\\nAs the night fell o er her\\n.Securely, tho the woodland snare\\nBound the peerless wand rer there,\\nAnd her deeply earnest prayer\\nHome could not restore her.", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0156.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "The Dead Maiden. i^y\\nUpon her brow and waving hair,\\nDew-drops in the Hghtning s glare,\\nFormed a crown that trembled there,\\nAnd in darkness glisten d\\nWhile her snowy hand would part\\nLairs where timid fawn would start,\\nShe with wildly beating heart,\\nTo the tempest listened.\\nFor the skies were overcast,\\nAnd the fiercely shrieking blast\\nChilled her as it thundered past,\\nIn the forest trackless,\\nWhile the Storm God madly hurled\\nBrands of lightning o er the world,\\nAnd the scroll of death unfurled\\nIn the midnight blackness.\\nCypress trees, the type of gloom,\\nWhisper d, Maiden meet thy doom,\\nFor this lonely wood s thy tomb,\\nAnd the gale now sighing,\\nWhen the sparkling dew shall lave\\nFlow rets in their graceful wave,\\nWill kiss them on thy unseen grave,\\nAt the daylight s dying.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0157.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "T48 The Dead Maiden.\\nAnd the night-owl screamed aloud,\\nLeaflets here shall be thy shroud\\nAs he poised high in the cloud\\nDrifting o er the river\\nWhile the spectral fire-fly,\\nAs it passed the lost one by,\\nBreathed unto the Maiden, Die\\nThen was gone forever.\\nHigh on the cliffs the hoary moss\\nIn the waiHng gale would toss,\\nSighing, Maiden, for thy loss\\nFriends will be deploring\\nAnd the quiv ring lightning s gleam\\nBrighter danced upon the stream,\\nAnd more frightful, too, did seem\\nThe tempest s hollow roaring.\\nFather, spake the Maid alone,\\nIn her gentle earnest tone,\\nThou who oft hast mercy shown,\\nGuide me thro this danger\\nOnly clouds more darkly frowned,\\nAnd the prayer, alas was drowned\\nIn the writhing tempest s sound,\\nNear the virgin stranger.", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0158.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "The Dead Maiden. i^g\\nIn the haunted woodland green,\\nDead, within its shaded screen,\\nWhere her spirit oft is seen,\\nThe Maiden lost, reposes\\nAnd she s wept for even now,\\nWhile the wood-nymphs lowly bow\\nAs they deck her lily brow\\nWith the forest roses.\\nApollo pours his low sad strains\\nO er her bleaching, white remains,\\nWhen at evening daylight wanes\\nIn the vale enchanted\\nAnd as mourners o er the dead.\\nClose beside her mossy bed\\nFlowers their pale tresses spread,\\nBy the wood-nymphs planted.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0159.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "IN MEMORIAM.\\nLand of the South embalmed in song\\nThat echoes down the years,\\nAbove thy dead to-day we strew\\nThe victor Bay and burial Yew,\\nTo tell thy fame in tears\\nFor tho thy starry cross went down\\nAmid the wrathful fight,\\nUpon its shining wreck we read\\nHow hero hearts can break and bleed,\\nBefore they yield the right.\\nLand of the South the sweet May-time\\nThat wooes thy buds and blooms.\\nDoth in its flight adown the Spring\\nIts rosy garlands freely bring\\nTo wreathe thy place of tombs,\\nWhere lowly winds like mourners bend\\nTo whisper to the brave.\\nWhose quiet brows, tho cold beneath.\\nAre circled with the laurel s wreath\\nThat sparkles from the grave.", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0160.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "In Memoriain.\\nLand of the South thy blades no more\\nLeap out in hands of steel,\\nBut in their rust the record sleeps\\nThat jealous Honor steadfast keeps,\\nHow Southrons scorn to kneel\\nAnd on thy deeds shall Romance love\\nTo rear her dazzHng fane,\\nAnd pilgrims come to haunt the Urns\\nWhere Sorrow broods and Valor turns\\nTo muse upon thy slain.\\nLand of the South the stars that burst\\nLike blossoms from thy sky,\\nReflect in each a hero s shade\\nWhose knightly deeds shall only fade\\nWhen Time itself shall die\\nAnd future Bards shall sweetly wake\\nTo thee their chosen lyre.\\nAnd woman s lips shall hymn the praise\\nTo childlish ears in tender lays\\nOf Fallen Southern sire.\\nLand of the South a Bayard keeps\\nAll mute his marble rest,\\nWithin each grave whose storied clay\\nLies in its winding sheet of grey\\n^5^", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0161.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "T^2 In Memoriam.\\nUpon thy mother breast\\nAnd now we bring our floral gifts,\\nAnd braids of Immortelle,\\nAs tribute to the courtly dead\\nWho followed where thy banner led.\\nAnd with that banner fell.\\nLand of the South thy squadrons rush\\nDown in the fray no more,\\nMid rifle flash and sabre stroke\\nAnd scenes of blood and battle smoke,\\nAs in the days of yore.\\nBut, ah the lightning track they left\\nIs paved with Spartan dust.\\nAnd legends linger where they rode.\\nThat gild the page of Valor s Code,\\nOf how they kept their trust.\\nLand of the South a halo gleams\\nUpon thy midnight gloom.\\nAnd round thy broken shrine it throws\\nA wreath of light that constant glows\\nAbout the martyr s tomb,\\nAnd from thy darkest ruins spring,\\nWhere life and hope are dumb.", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0162.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "In Memoriam. 153\\nTraditions that shall live in song\\nThat other Minstrels shall prolong\\nIn days that are to come.\\nLand of the South about thy wrecks\\nThe fires of Courage play,\\nAnd Glory gathers from thy grief\\nThe grandest gleanings in its sheaf\\nTo garner them for aye\\nFor when the last throb of thy drums\\nGrew faint upon the air,\\nImmortals bore on wings of flame\\nThe echo up the steeps of Fame\\nAnd left it living there.\\nLand of the South no martial muse\\nA purer theme shall teach,\\nThan how thy colors swift and far\\nSwept o er the purple field of war\\nAnd lit the deadly breach\\nAnd Vandal pen can ne er profane,\\nOr blight with venom stroke,\\nA single star that hung thereon\\nAnd shone till every hope was gone\\nTo dare the despot s yoke.", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0163.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0164.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0165.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0166.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0167.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0168.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0169.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "OCT 3 1900", "height": "3422", "width": "2108", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0170.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3437", "width": "2133", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0171.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3620", "width": "2270", "jp2-path": "poethissongsbein00clin_0172.jp2"}}