St. Mary's Beacon

(For the Beacon.)
The Battle of Manassas Plain
By [illegible]

Hark! to the tramp of Northern feet
Fast bearing down on Southern soil:
They come their brother men to meet
For gory game and wicked spoil.

List to the din of clashing arms
Way over on Virginia's shore,
And cannon peals sound war's alarms
With loud and deep protracted roar.

That ample field on Manassas
In all its beautiful grandeur lay.
By thousand hoof is now uptorn,
Distained with gore its sunder'd clay.

Clasped in stern death's unconscious hold,
Like scatter'd hail, lay friend and foe,
And proud eyes there which once flashed bold
Now swim in agony and woe.

Many a parent for their son
Now pines in sorrow o'er his grave;
Many a maiden wooed and won
Is left in hopeless grief to rave;

And widowed matrons, sisters, reft
Of all to them that made earth dear.
With mental pain their hearts are cleft,
Like men's in battle by the spear.

Hoarse was the battle's rumbling noise
That rolled far o'er Manassas Plain
Thundering as when stern Aeolus' voice
Bid wild winds surge the watery main,

Like avalanche from Alpine heights
Hurled on oppression's ruthless head;
Like raging whirlpools or dread sprites,
The South to death and victory led.

Shout! for the valiant hero band
Who live and won the wreaths of fame:
Shout! for the sons of Maryland
Who died and made themselves a name,

Shout! for each brave and noble son
Who fell and bled in this great fight;
On to the rescue! comrades on!
Nor yield unto the oppressor's might.

Blest Peace! between the two extremes
Of Summer's heat and Winter's cold,
Can man ne'er find 'mid all their schemes
Some space to stay the torrent bold?

Blest Peace, that links the rich with poor
That bind'st together small and great,
Canst thou be found, oh never more
To heal the cancer wound of hate

Where late lived youth and energy
Amid the thicken'd carnage dread
Sore writhing in their misery
Are dying, maimed, with heaps of dead.

And yet methinks upon this scene
Lincoln unmoved could gaze for e'er
Untouched by other thought, I ween,
Than that of paltry coward fear.