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5. the Swamp Angel.

The large Parrott gun used in bombarding Charleston from the marshes of James Island is called the Swamp Angel. --Soldier's Letter.

Down in the land of rebel Dixie,
Near to the hot-bed of treason,
Five miles away from Charleston,
Amid the sands of James Island,
Swept by the tides of the ocean,
Is the Swamp Angel.
Can parrot,
With plumage as black as a raven,
And scream unlike her tropical sisters'--
A hundred-pounder, with terrible voice!--
Be called bird or angel?
She's for Freedom,
And Uncle Sam! synonymous terms;
An angel of vengeance and not of mercy,
Come to execute wrath upon the city
Whence sprang secession.

At night this angel raiseth her voice,
And her cry is “woe,” and not “rejoice.”
She sendeth far her meteor shell,
And it soareth up as if to dwell
With the twinkling stars in the fadeless blue;
There poiseth itself for the mighty blow,
Then downward shoots like a bolt from God:
Crushes the dwelling and crimsons the sod!
Fire leaps out from its iron heart,
Rives the defences of treason apart,
Till ruin spreads her sulphur pall,
O'er shattered tower and crumbling wall;
And fearful crowds from the city fly,
Seeing the day of her doom is nigh!

O ye who herd with traitors!--say,
Is this the dawn of that promised day
Your poets sung and your prophets told?
Is this age of iron your age of gold?
For this did ye rouse the Southern hate,
To rend the Union strong and great?
And build on the low Palmetto's shore
An empire proud for evermore--
And shut in the face of the North your door!

Hear ye in the Angel the Northern call,
Thundered on Sumter's broken wall,
Echoed in Charleston's silent street,
Shouted in Treason's proud retreat:

“Freemen must share with you the land!
Choose olive leaf — or blazing brand;
Choose peaceful Commerce‘ flag of stars,
Or rifled guns and monitors!

”By you were words of treason spoken,
By you the nation's peace was broken;
The first gun fired whose startling jar
Sent through the land the shock of war!

Hear truth by Gospel trumpet blown--
Shall ye not reap as ye have sown?
Thistles for thistles, tares for tares,
The whirlwind's breath — a rain of snares!

”The avenging Angel rides the blast--
You fired the first gun — we'll fire the last! “

T. N. J.

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