Home, home—­his heart is full of it;
  But home he never shall see,
Even should he stand upon the spot: 
  ’Tis gone!—­where his brothers be.

The cypress-moss from tree to tree
  Hangs in his Southern land;
As weird, from thought to thought of his
  Run memories hand in hand.

And so he lingers—­lingers on
  In the City of the Foe—­
His cousins and his countrymen
  Who see him listless go.

“FORMERLY A SLAVE”
An idealized Portrait, by E. Vedder, in the Spring
Exhibition of the National Academy, 1865

The sufferance of her race is shown,
  And retrospect of life,
Which now too late deliverance dawns upon;
  Yet is she not at strife.

Her children’s children they shall know
  The good withheld from her;
And so her reverie takes prophetic cheer—­
  In spirit she sees the stir.

Far down the depth of thousand years,
  And marks the revel shine;
Her dusky face is lit with sober light,
  Sibylline, yet benign.

ON THE SLAIN COLLEGIANS

Youth is the time when hearts are large,
  And stirring wars
Appeal to the spirit which appeals in turn
  To the blade it draws. 
If woman incite, and duty show
  (Though made the mask of Cain),
Or whether it be Truth’s sacred cause,
  Who can aloof remain
That shares youth’s ardor, uncooled by the
    snow
  Of wisdom or sordid gain?

The liberal arts and nurture sweet
  Which give his gentleness to man—­
    Train him to honor, lend him grace
Through bright examples meet—­
That culture which makes never wan
With underminings deep, but holds
  The surface still, its fitting place,
  And so gives sunniness to the face
And bravery to the heart; what troops
  Of generous boys in happiness thus bred—­
  Saturnians through life’s Tempe led,
Went from the North and came from the
    South,
With golden mottoes in the mouth,
  To lie down midway on a bloody bed.

Woe for the homes of the North,
And woe for the seats of the South: 
All who felt life’s spring in prime,
And were swept by the wind of their place and
    time—­
  All lavish hearts, on whichever side,
Of birth urbane or courage high,
Armed them for the stirring wars—­
  Armed them—­some to die. 
    Apollo-like in pride. 
Each would slay his Python—­caught
The maxims in his temple taught—­
  Aflame with sympathies whose blaze
Perforce enwrapped him—­social laws,
  Friendship and kin, and by-gone days—­
Vows, kisses—­every heart unmoors,
And launches into the seas of wars. 
What could they else—­North or South? 
Each went forth with blessings given
By priests and mothers in the name of Heaven;
    And honor in both was chief. 
Warred one for Right, and one for Wrong?