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s soon to recover her strength. We have evidence, in abundance, of the awful condition of the Union people — of their heroic endurance and unwearied patience, in waiting for the advance of the old flag and of the armies of the Union. Why not bend our energies to release them? Will our rulers look for candidates for the Presidency, while the chivalry are hanging and murdering loyal Tennesseeans, Alabamians, and Georgians? Will Chase and Lincoln be fighting over the future honors of the White House, while the valiant chivalry are hunting down, with bloodhounds, the loyal people of the South? Will such fanatical ranters as Wendell Phillips and Beecher foam and froth about the emancipation proclamation, while thousands are being enslaved by the conscripting minions of Jeff Davis? Will the little one-horse abolition and Republican editors of the North be howling about copperheads, while such a woman as Mrs. Davis is robbed of her property, and has to flee for her life? Would it not
d, “I'll master, I know I will, The difficult task before me; I'll maul my way through the hard world still, Till the Star of Fame shines o'er me.” I saw him again, when he rose to cope, Hand to hand, with the “Western Giant;” His eye lit up with a beam of hope, On his sinewy strength reliant. “I'll fight him,” he said, “with the maul of Truth, Till he shrink and quail before me, Till he stand abashed in astonished ruth, While the Star of Fame shines o'er me.” I saw him again in the White House chair, A-writing the Proclamation; And the pen he used was the heaviest maul In this rail-mauling nation. And he said, “'Tis the only way to make The traitors flee before us; While the light it sheds will leave a wake That will shine when the sod grows o'er us.” I saw him again but the other night, And he shook my hand in greeting; And little he thought how soon I'd write, And tell the world of our meeting. The hand I clasped has swung the maul, And my own has written its s