Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DAISY SWAIN, THE FLOWER OF SHENANDOAH; A TALE OF THE REBELLION: 10, by JOHN M. DAGNALL


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DAISY SWAIN, THE FLOWER OF SHENANDOAH; A TALE OF THE REBELLION: 10, by                    
First Line: When the chieftain deep into the forest shade
Last Line: And on his mangled bosom died.
Subject(s): American Civil War; Beauty; Death; Love; Soldiers; United States - History; Women; Dead, The


When the chieftain deep into the forest shade
Had fled, the stranger from his covert hied
To the gloomy spot where Daisy's cries for
Mercy had arisen, and found her there
Half dead by fear, murmuring in despair.

Soon he from the ground her faint form raised,
And in her livid cheeks beheld how much,
Alas! her inmost heart was wounded. Then
From the rocky cell along a vernal path
He bore his fragile trust in safety,
Until a hazel glade he reached, where obscur'd
From curious sight, he halted near
A tinkling rill, which down a pebbly steep
Slow trickling ran, and with its ice-cool water
Daisy's fevered temples lav'd.

Soon with
Open eyes she hailed the breaking morn's gray light;
Her ears caught the plaintive murmur of the rill;
Her low voice muttered, "Where am I? By whom
Thus held hand bound? Who's my deliverer?"

'Twas then the stranger read with glad surprise
Her brighten'd looks, and thro' her gleaming eyes
Saw her life was safe; but yet a symbol
There reveal'd some hidden secret in her heart,
Which, altho' her charms had been by the keen blight
Of sorrow faded, still show'd that the soft tinge
Of beauty lingered on her care-worn cheeks.

"Oh, Sir," she said, "to you I owe my life,
To you my grateful thanks are due. Never
Can my heart renounce thy hallow'd friendship's claim."
Then she told him all about her hard fate:
What wrongs she'd from the rebels borne, and how
Of father, mother, friends bereft; and one,
Also, who found her young, torn from her fair.
"Ah!" she sigh'd, "oft together we have form'd
Our mutual faiths with fondest truths, and sealed,
With true love sighs, our promised hymen vow.
But being then of him and friends bereft
By that pamper'd son of vice and tyranny,
No one was left who could my griefs assuage;
And oft I've visited the blissful bowers
Where we were wont to meet, and wander'd often
O'er and o'er again our fiel[ds] of cheerful love;
But all those once bright scenes were clouded;
Nor sun, nor moon, nor stars had light for me.
Each hour his absence wrung my heart. Many
Long, sad days I heard no tidings of him;
And feared I was, alas! forever doom'd
His friendship's bitter loss to taste, when --" Here
She paused to wipe away the tears that dimm'd
Her eyes.

"Alas!" her friend then cried, "how strange
Do secret sympathies human souls pervade!
The hardest heart in grief like thine would feel
A share; and even now to see thee weep,
Connects with thine my own remember'd joys
Unto thy wretchedness; for thy plight afflicts
My heart, and, like me, I learn thou art to love
And keen despair a prey, -- a victim of
The self same ruffian vile who thrust me in
A dungeon dark, where many weary days
And nights I, caged up like an untamed beast,
Imprison'd sat, a hapless vassal bound,
Pining in darkness, famish'd, and benumb'd
By damps, clanking my slavish chains, and counting
Many a weary hour of my dull life
Away, thinking that if I could but rend
The links that gall'd my heart, I'd quickly fly
To the dear pledge whom to my first-born hopes
Was known -- one whose face I found in pride of
Beauty fair, and in whose lustrous blue eye
Her gentle spirit shone. O that Daisy
Now were nigh to hear my voice, I'd --"

Daisy felt
Like being lifted to the clouds, and fixed
Her eyes full on the stranger. "I see, I see!"
She cried, "thou art none else but Athol!
This yeoman's guise is all delusion!"
With one accordant pause an attitude
They struck; and mute awhile they stood in all
The silent eloquence of love; then rush'd
Into each others' arms.

Heart to heart they press'd --
Burning kisses seal'd their lips. Raptures raised
Their two embodied souls to heaven, for
They knew not where they stood. Creation, too,
Her grateful voice uplifted; as the sky,
Just then, with joyous light an unclouded
Aspect wore. Gaily the birds, in pairs,
On lithe wings flutter'd about them. Their jocund songs
Attuned made the welkin ring with mirth.

Soon from the wretched Daisy Athol's presence
Banish'd care; her falling tears dried, and caus'd
Life's mantling current high to mount her face.
Her humorous heart then dimpled her cheek with
Smiles. The lucid gladness over all
Her features spread. Sonorous and clear she vented
Forth a joyous laugh at seeing Athol
In disguise. He, too, in sweet astonishment
Smiled and said: "'Tis done to cheat the rebel's sight;
For, the human mind, you know, is well versed
In deceit: The sire of falsehood practiced
It; the rebels follow him; we copy
Them -- perhaps with more consummate art."

'Twas
Thus that their strange meeting on each other
Much unsullied pleasure did bestow. Then
Daisy mildly said: "Come, Athol, let us
Hasten from this place: It is the shrine of
Rebels, and the air around is tainted
With their breaths. Come, let us go ere the brood of
Vile cut-throats bar our paths."

"No, Daisy, no,"
Cried Athol, "Fame, honor, truth, forbid it.
The dastard sycophant who mock'd at me
Scarce heal'd of my wounds, and you an orphan
Made, to suffer from hunger and p'rhaps die,
Unpitied, among my friends a speedy fate
Must find: as justice for the wrongs the brute
Has done, the crimes which he's exulted o'er
Demand his doom. Yet, being a scout, it would
Be prudent, now to leave ere danger may
In direst form arise and disconcert
My well laid plans to capture the guerrillas [sic],
For our corps is now encamp'd upon the edge
Of this small stream just where it runs through yonder cedar grove."

Then they clasped their hands and sighed the vow that
They would, when the battle ceased and he had
Swept with giant strength the proud survivor
Of their wrongs from earth, be wed. So, Daisy,
Hailed the dawn of that bright day, thinking much
Of the sweet promise and of many years
Of bliss in store, and said whatever might
Betide, she'd share his fate on future fields
Of proud renown or fall with him in victory.
So, trusting in Heaven for strength and quick
With nimble feet she with him flew, to dare
The paths which Athol oft had dared before.

Then ere the redd'ning sun that day had set,
Sounds of drums and war's alarms were heard upon
The wind. Hosts of men with hollow eyes,
Haggard cheeks, and with their bright arms gleaming
In the sun, cross'd Potomac's flood to wage
Impious war upon Antietam's plain.
There McClellan brave, his country's pride, but
Short-lived faction's hate, unfurled his banner
To the vent'rous foe, and led in proud array
His daring thousands forth, who far and wide
Dispersed Lee's plund'ring hosts.

In Daisy's eyes
It was an awful sight to see, face to face,
Christian freemen stand in line of battle dread
Hurling ruin, waste, and death around her:
Terrible the vengeful shouts and horrid yells
Which rose amid the thundering cannon's peal:
Heart-rending cries of mortal agony,
And shrieks of death from mangled corse ascending.

And when the discordant din of strife had
Died upon the evening breeze, she bounded
'Midst the heroic slain, and called, with cries
Of sadness, the name of him who promised
Her, ere long, the nuptial ring. So, onward,
Wild in aspect, across the bloody plain
She flew, searching, with tearful eyes along,
With brothers o'er brothers bending, fathers
O'er slaughter'd sons, and friends loudly mingling
Their lamentations with the wounded's groans,
Her Athol's bleeding form; when soon, among
The ghastly slain, she spied, prostrate upon
The ensanguined ground, the guerilla chief,
Athol's mortal foe, 'gainst whom he strove in
Rage of battle hot, and triumph'd o'er at last:
For, a deadly minie ball from Athol's
Well-aimed carbine had gone whizzing where
The chieftain stood, urging on his men, and sank
Him 'mid the rebel dead.

Seeing his fate,
She raised her hands on high, and utter'd "God
Be praised, thy retribution's just:" then hurried
On in grief, low bending, scrutinizing,
In the moon's pale beam, ev'ry pallid face
That lay cold in death, to find her love.

Soon from the blood-stained grass a muttered prayer
With mournful groans upon her ears sounded.
Quickly whence the moans arose she hastened;
And there, alas! quite faint, expiring, saw
Her lover writhing in his wounds, bleeding
Fast, all welt'ring in his life blood, gasping
Hard for breath; his dark hair drenched with gore; his
Musket by his side, its handle firmly grasped.

Franticly [sic], she called him by his name; stooped
And fondly clasped her Athol to her heart,
Brushed the matted locks back from his brow and
Gazing on his dying eyes, she bade him speak
One dear fond word to her, his Daisy fair.
He muttered "Oh! is that you, love, my bride?"
Then gave a gurgling sound and lay a breathless corpse.

Swift frenzy lit her eyes. A mortal pang
Her heart struck. She gave a shriek and cried aloud,
"Oh! God, thy will be done," then fell upon
Her lover's clay-cold corse, kissed his bloodless lips
And on his mangled bosom died.





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