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RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO GEN. BEAUREGARD.
THE sun's hot rays were falling fast, As through a Southern city passed A man who bore, 'midst rowdies low, A banner with the strange motto —
His brow was sad ; his mouth beneath Smelt strong of fire at every breath: And like a furious madman sung The accents of that unknown tongue —
In happy homes he saw the light Of household fires gleam warm and bright ; Above, the spectral gallows shone, And from his lips escaped a groan —
" Try not that game ! " Abe Lincoln said, " Dark lower the thunders overhead; The mighty North has been defied." But still that drunken voice replied —