Author 
 
 Title 
 
 Class/.. 
 
 Book ulf-.^--- 
 
 /ea5 
 
 Imprint 
 
 16—47372-1 GPO 
 
/<3Cf'^ 
 
 THE BI^UKEN 
 
 BHTT7ILI0NS. 
 
 ]y<aui Ha:rr)illoi-) jiayr)G, 
 
 

 |f(2[ul p.(Z[ir)in©r) JT-Grj-i^c 
 
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COPYRIGHT, 1885, 
 BY MRS. H. NEWELL MARTIN, 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The exquisite verses ichich follow, su7-ely a^nong 
 the most tender and beautiful that even Paul Hayne 
 ever wrote, were composed for the occasion of this 
 Bazaar, and given by their author to the Committee of 
 the Maryland Line Table. Copyright in thetn is at 
 present secured in the name of the Chairman of that 
 Committee. After the close of the Bazaar it will 
 be transferred to the proper oficer of the Society of the 
 Army and Navy of the Confederate States in the State 
 of Maryland. 
 
The Hrnken Battalinns. 
 
 The sounds of the tumult have ceased to ring, 
 
 And the Battle's Sun has set, 
 And here in peace of the new-born Spring-, 
 
 We would fain forgive and forget ; 
 
 Forget the rage of the hostile years, 
 And the scars of a wrong unshriven, 
 
 Forgive the torture that thrilled to tears 
 The Angels' calm in Heaven. 
 
 Forgive and forget ? yes ! be it so, 
 
 From the hills to the broad sea waves ; 
 
 But mournful and low are the winds that blow 
 By the slopes of a thousand graves ; 
 
5 
 
 We may scourge from the Spirit all thought 
 of ill 
 
 In the midnight of grief held fast, 
 And yet, O Brothers ! be loyal still 
 
 To the sacred and stainless Past ! 
 
 She is glancing now from the vapor and 
 cloud, 
 
 From the waning mansion of Mars, 
 And the pride of her beauty is wanly bowed, 
 
 And her eyes are misted stars : 
 
 And she speaks in a voice that is sad as death, 
 
 •'• There is duty still to be done, 
 Tho' the trumpet of onset has spent its breath. 
 
 And the Battle been lost and won ;" 
 
And she points with a tremulous hand below, 
 
 To the wasted and worn array 
 Of the heroes who strove in the morning 
 glow, 
 
 Of the grandeur that crowned "the Gray ;" 
 
 O, God ! they come not as once they came 
 
 In the magical years of yore ; 
 For the trenchant sword and the soul 
 of flame, 
 
 Shall quiver and flash no more ; — 
 
 Alas ! for the broken and battered hosts ; 
 
 Frail wrecks from a gory sea, 
 Tho' pale as a band in the realm of ghosts, 
 
 Salute them ! they fought with Lee, 
 
And gloried when daundess Stonewall marched 
 
 Like a giant o'er field and flood, 
 When the Bow of his splendid victories arched 
 
 The Tempest whose rain is blood ! 
 
 Salute them ! those wistful and sunken eyes 
 
 Flashed lightnings of sacred ire, 
 When the laughing blue of the Southland skies, 
 
 Was blasted with cloud and fire : — 
 
 Salute them ! their voices so faint to-day, 
 
 Were once the thunder of strife. 
 In the storm of the hottest and wildest fray, 
 
 That ever has mocked at life ! 
 
Not vanquished, but crushed by a mystic fate, 
 BHnd nations against them hurled 
 
 By the selfish might and the causeless Hate 
 Of the bandec .nd ruthless World ! 
 
 Enough : all Fates are the servants of God ; 
 
 And follow His guiding hand ; — 
 We shall rise some day from the Chastener's 
 rod. 
 
 Shall waken, and understand ! 
 
 But hark, to the Past as she murmurs, "Come, 
 
 There's a duty still to be done, 
 Tho' mute is the drum, and the bugle dumb, 
 
 And the Battle is lost and won !" 
 
9 
 
 No Palace is here for the heroes' needs, 
 With its shining portals apart ; — 
 
 Shall they find the peace of their "Invalides, 
 O, South ! in your grateful Heart ? 
 
 A Refuge of welcome with living halls, 
 And Love for its radiant dome, 
 
 'Till the music of death's reveille calls 
 The souls of the Warriors home ! 
 
 March 30th, 1885. 
 
i™,?*"^ °'' CONGRESS^