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She shrines the spot were now is laid,
The bravest of them all, The Martyr of our country's cause,
Our idolized Stonewall; But though his spirit's wafted
To the happy realms above; His name shall live forever linked,
With reverence and love. |
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LITTLE GIFFIN. By Dr. Francis O. Ticknor. |
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" A ballad of such unique and really transcendent merit, that in our judgment it ought to rank with the rarest gems of modern martial poetry."— P. H. Hayne.
Out of the focal and foremost fire, Out of the hospital walls as dire, Smitten of grape-shot and gangrene, (Eighteenth battle, and he sixteen !) Specter such as we seldom see, Little Giffin of Tennessee ! |
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"Take him and welcome!" the surgeon said: "Much your doctor can help the dead!" And so we took him and brought him where, The balm was sweet on the summer air; And we laid him- down on a wholesome bed— Utter Lazarus, heel to head ! |
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