No one will be better pleased than the writer of this article, if, before it sees the light, the vigorous action of Congress shall render its suggestions superfluous and unseasonable.
'T is midnight: through my troubled dream Loud wails the tempest's cry; Before the gale, with tattered sail, A ship goes plunging by. What name? Where bound?--The rocks around Repeat the loud halloo. --The good ship Union, Southward bound: God help her and her crew!
And is the old flag flying still That o'er your fathers flew, With bands of white and rosy light, And field of starry blue? --Ay! look aloft! its folds full oft Have braved the roaring blast, And still shall fly when from the sky This black typhoon has past!
Speak, pilot of the storm-tost bark! May I thy peril share? --O landsman, these are fearful seas The brave alone may dare! --Nay, ruler of the rebel deep, What matters wind or wave? The rocks that wreck your reeling deck Will leave me nought to save!
O landsman, art thou false or true? What sign hast thou to show? --The crimson stains from loyal veins That hold my heart-blood's flow! --Enough! what more shall honor claim? I know the sacred sign; Above thy head our flag shall spread, Our ocean path be thine!
The bark sails on; the Pilgrim's Cape Lies low along her lee, Whose headland crooks its anchor-flukes To lock the shore and sea. No treason here! it cost too dear To win this barren realm! And true and free the hands must be That hold the whaler's helm!
Still on! Manhattan's narrowing bay No Rebel cruiser scars; Her waters feel no pirate's keel That flaunts the fallen stars! --But watch the light on yonder height,-- Ay, pilot, have a care! Some lingering cloud in mist may shroud The capes of Delaware!
Say, pilot, what this fort may be, Whose sentinels look down From moated walls that show the sea Their deep embrasures' frown? The Rebel host claims all the coast, But these are friends, we know, Whose footprints spoil the "sacred soil," And this is?--Fort Monroe!
The breakers roar,--how bears the shore? --The traitorous wreckers' hands Have quenched the blaze that poured its rays Along the Hatteras sands. --Ha! say not so! I see its glow! Again the shoals display The beacon light that shines by night, The Union Stars by day!