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169
TO ANDERSON.
Glad lightning, on his myriad-footed steed,Sped o'er the land, as happiest angels ride
On blissful errands; then through the flood tide
Of fiery syllables, thy sudden deed
Poured on the Nation's troubled heart such seed
Of power, the flagging pulse leapt in its side,
The eagle soared sunward, again strong-eyed,
Stout men looked each on each with freshened pride,
And stretched to the utmost admiration's creed
Towards mothers that could bear the like of thee,
Who mid mad shriek of treason's thwarted brag,
With soldier's grasp and true soul's loyalty,
Outflung with prayer on Sumpter's martial crag
Freedom's broad shield, terrible on land and sea,
The world's chief hope,—our war-won fulgent flag.
January 27th, 1861.
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