Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SUMTER'S BAND, by JAMES WRIGHT SIMMONS First Line: When carolina's hope grew pale Last Line: Their watchword is thy memory! Subject(s): American Revolution; Sumter, Thomas (1734-1832); Virginia (state) | ||||||||
WHEN Carolina's hope grew pale Before the British lion's tread, And Freedom's sigh in every gale Was heard above her martyr'd dead; When from her mountain heights subdued, In pride of place forbid to soar, Her Eagle banner, quench'd in blood, Lay sullen on the indignant shore, Breathing revenge, invoking doom, Tyrant! upon thy purple host, When all stood wrapt in steadfast gloom, And silence brooded o'er her coast, Stealthy, as when from thicket dun, The Indian springs upon his bow, Up rose, South Mount, thy warrior son, And headlong darted on the foe. Not in the pride of war he came, With bugle note and banner high, And nodding plume, and steel of flame, Red battle's gorgeous panoply! With followers few, but undismay'd, Each change and chance of fate withstood Beneath her sunshine and her shade, The same heroic brotherhood! From secret nook, in other land, Emerging fleet along the pine, Prone down he flew before his band, Like eagle on the British line! Catacoba's waters smiled again, To see her Sumter's soul in arms; And issuing from each glade and glen, Rekindled by war's fierce alarms, Throng'd hundreds through the solitude Of the wild forest, to the call Of him whose spirit, unsubdued, Fresh impulse gave to each, to all. By day the burning sands they ply, Night sees them in the fell ravine; Familiar to each follower's eye, The tangled brake, the hall of green. Roused by their tread from covert deep, Spring the gaunt wolf, and thus while near Is heard, forbidding thought of sleep, The rattling serpent's sound of fear! Before or break of early morn, Or fox looks out from copse to close, Before the hunter winds his horn. Sumter's already on his foes! He beat them back! beneath the flame Of valor quailing, or the shock! And carved, at last, a hero's name Upon the glorious Hanging Rock! And time, that shades or sears the wreath, Where glory binds the soldier's brow, Kept bright her Sumter's fame in death, His hour of proudest triumph, now. And ne'er shall tyrant tread the shore Where Sumter bled, nor bled in vain; A thousand hearts shall break, before They wear the oppressor's chains again. O never can thy sons forget The mighty lessons taught by thee; Since -- treasured by the eternal debt -- Their watchword is thy memory! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FIELD GUIDE TO SOUTHERN VIRGINIA by FORREST GANDER TO THE VIRGINIAN VOYAGE [1611] by MICHAEL DRAYTON THE VIRGINIANS OF THE VALLEY by FRANCIS ORRERY TICKNOR VIRGINIA - THE WEST by WALT WHITMAN MASSACHUSETTS TO VIRGINIA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER AT RICHMOND by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER LIFE IN THE AUTUMN WOODS by PHILIP PENDLETON COOKE TO MASTER GEORGE SANDYS TREASURER FOR THE ENGLISH COLONY IN VIRGINIA by MICHAEL DRAYTON LORD DUNMORE'S PETITION TO THE LEGISLATURE OF VIRGINIA by PHILIP FRENEAU THE STARLIGHT NIGHT by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS |
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