Old Moultrie
All lovers of poetry will know in whose liquid gold I have dipped my brush to illumine the picture.
The splendor falls on bannered walls
Of ancient Moultrie, great in story;
And flushes now, his scar-seamed brow,
With rays of golden glory!
Great in his old renown;
Great in the honor thrown
Around him by the foe,
Had sworn to lay him low!
The glory falls—historic walls
Too weak to cover foes insulting,
Become a tower—a sheltering bower—
A theme of joy exulting;
God, merciful and great,
Preserved the high estate
Of Moultrie, by His power
Through the fierce battle-hour!
The splendor fell—his banners swell
Majestic forth to catch the shower;
Our own loved blue receives anew
A rich immortal dower!
Adown the triple bars
Of its companion, spars
Of golden glory stream;
On seven-rayed circlet beam!
The glory falls—but not on walls
Of Sumter deemed the post of duty;
A brilliant sphere, it circles clear
The harbor in its beauty;
Holding in its embrace
The city’s queenly grace;
Stern battery and tower,
Of manly strength and power,
But brightest falls on Moultrie’s walls,
Forever there to rest in glory,
A hallowed light—on buttress height—
Oh, fort, beloved and hoary!
Rest there and tell that faith
Shall never suffer scaith;
Rest there-and glow afar—
Hope’s ever-burning star!
Charleston Mercury