In sight the Star's flag woos the breeze, At once death-threatening notes Come pealing o'er the swelling seas From blazing cannon throats!

Dark batteries frown on Sumter's walls;
Ready the rebel foe !

The heroes meet its humbling calls
With an unwavering “No!"

Surrender? Never, while they dare
To call a hope their own;

Blows must be struck for entrance there;
Might wins—and might alone!

Thus days of weariness pass by,
Long days of manly toil,
Till Famine sounds its herald cry

Of victory and spoil!

Ten thousand hearts are with them there!

Alas! all powerless they !

They can but lift their voice in prayer,

And fold their hands to pray!

And sturdy ships with precious freight

Are speeding o'er the sea,

But ere they reach the harbor-gate, Stern dangers dare the free!

The savage foe with cunning hand
Forewarned of coming aid,
To ruin doom the needy band-
The few but undismayed!

The slowly-burning torch applied, Quick burst loud thunder peals, Fire-trailing bombs fly o'er the tide ; The shock proud Sumter feels!

They thicken in the startled air,
As storms of summer hail;
Night reddens with the lurid glare!
Those stout hearts do not quail!

Ere long the gallant Anderson
Returns the heavy fire;

Loud speaks full many a shotted gun,
And death is in their ire!

Most nobly fight the little band,
Beneath the dear old flag!

For that in danger dare to stand,

As deer on beetling crag!

Thus forty hours red cannon throats Utter their fiendish cry,

While Sumter with her thunder notes Makes resolute reply.

But ah! those brave, how feeble they,'
Before such circling hosts,
However well their part they play,
Or confident their boasts!

Hot balls upkindle angry flames,
And stifled grows the air;

The foe still closer press their claims,
Nor heed their known despair!

Yet no vain murmurs pass their lips,
When shines no more a star,
Nor succor comes from friendly ships,
Without the harbor bar!

Calmly they run the white flag up,
The all now left the brave,

In silence drink the bitter cup,
From which no arm can save!

If mercy comes not from the foe,
Kind Heaven deals tenderly,

No dead ones from their presence go, No blood-stains scar the free!

The God-the Holy One and Just, Who gave them hearts so true; The God in whom they meekly trust, Preserves the gallant few!

While hundreds of the traitor band
Hear now no signal drum,
From out the rage of fire and brand
Alive, unharmed they come!

Their hearts are full of filial love,
For all this guardian care,
But tears will flow to feel, above
Scarred Sumter, now the fair,

The stainless banner of the free,
No more shields Freedom's brave

And eager eyes no longer see
Its triumph from the wave!

To sternest need they only yield;
Their hearts, unconquered still,
Salute the flag and leave the field

For Treason's hordes to fill !

But while the world delights to own
Her few, immortal names,

Shall gallant Anderson's be known

As one such honor claims!

And millions yet unborn shall hear
From aged lips the tale,

How those true hearts knew not a fear

Storming the fiery gale!

FORT SUMTER.

A HEROIC POEM, IN THREE CANTOS

BY CHARLES EDWARD LEVERETT, JR.

CANTO I.

NOW glory be to Uncle Abe, and Scott, his

lion pet,

And Seward, the righteous pontifex, who rules the Cabinet;

And glory to the mighty fleet that stood off Charleston Bar,

And left the dauntless Anderson to bear the brunt of war.