THE SOLDIER'S GRAVIDA
Abstulit atra Dies et funeramersit acerbo.-VIRG.
BENEATH this flow'r-deck'd rising mound,
Here rest the ashes of the brave;
A hero sleeps, by glory crown'd:
It is a patriot soldier's grave!
How late his manly heart beat high,
His country from each wrong to save;
But soon that heart was doom'd to lie,
Cold, cold within a soldier's grave.
Methinks I hear a footstep's tread;
How lightly, where yon osiers wave!
Perhaps by silence it is led,
The spirit of the soldier's grave!
Here Pity oft, at Mem’ry's call,
Repairs to view this narrow cave,
And dew with tears the flow'ry pall
That covers o'er the soldier's grave!
Here too a widow's broken sighs
Breathe o'er the relics of the brave,
And here her helpless orphan's eyes
Weep torrents on the soldier's grave.
His country's summons he obey'd;
Fair liberty he died to save,
And in this lonely spot is laid,
Unknown but as the soldier's grave.
For him the muse shall sweep the string,
For him who fell among the brave,
And virgin hands with wreaths of spring
Shall decorate the soldier's grave.
Charleston, June 25, 1817.
AN ENIGMA.-BY LORD BYRON,
From Ackerman's Repository.
'Twas whisperd in heav'n, and mutterd in hell,
And Echo caught softly the sound as it fell;
In the confines of earth, 'twas permitted to rest,
And the depths of the ocean its presence confest;
'Twas seen in the lightning, and heard in the thunder,
'Twill be found in the spheres when riven asunder;
It was given to man with his earliest breath,
It assists at his birth, and attends him in death,
Presides o'er his happiness, honour, and health,
Is the prop of his house, and the end of bis wealth;
It begins ev'ry hope, ev'ry wish it must bound,
And, though unassuming, with monarchs is crown'd;
In the heaps of the miser 'tis hoarded with care,
But is sure to be lost in the prodigal beir;
Without it the soldier and sailor may roam,
But wo to the wretch who expels it from bome;
In the whispers of conscience its voice will be found,
Nor e'er in the whirlwind of passion be drown'd;
It softens the heart, and, though deaf to the ear,
'Twill make it acutely and instantly bear;
But in shades let it rest like an elegant flow'r-
Oh! breathe on it softly-it dies in an bour.