Graham's Magazine Vol XXXII No. 6 June 1848

III

That leader – in the civil strife
Then waged for Liberty and Life,
No braver spirit stood,
Between his country and the chain,
Mistaken tyranny would fain
Have cast o'er lake and wood;
And though in manhood's early morn,
Young Huon led through strife and scorn
A trusty troop and free,
Who left their homes his lot to share,
For Freedom sworn to live and dare,
Or die – at Fate's decree;
And from the covert solitude
Of dark morass and thicket rude
Guerilla warfare waged,
On Tory band, unwary foe,
And struck full many a dauntless blow,
While hate and conflict raged.

IV

One hour from midnight and the sleep
That wrapped the stalwart frame so deep,
Was woke by guard and sign;
The forest sounded with the tramp
Of rushing steeds, until the camp
Was reached by foremost line
Of the brigade of fearless men,
Who rode through wood, and brake, and fen,
As speeds the red deer to his glen.
No gorgeous suit of war array,
No uniform of red or gray
In that rude band were seen;
The ploughman's dress, but coarse and plain,
And marred by toil with many a stain,
Betrayed no gilded sheen;
Their only badge the white cockade,
No dagger's point or glittering blade
Was worn with martial pride,
But sabre hilt and rifle true,
Oftimes of dark, ensanguined hue,
Were ever at the side.
They hailed their comrades in the fight,
With blazing fires illumed the night,
And waged with jest and smile,
As toward the lurid torches' light
Rode up their chief the while.
No pert gallant or Conrad he,
With gay plume waving haughtily;
Nor donned he aught his troopers o'er,
Save that the leathern cap he wore
In front a silver crescent bore,
Inscribed with "Death or Liberty."
Of stature low, the piercing eye,
And forehead broad, and full, and high,
And lined with lofty thought;
Were all that marked from his compeers,
The man who through long, gloomy years
With tireless vigor wrought,
Nerved by defeat for loftier aim,
To build his country's Hope and Fame,
And win for her a seat divine
Beneath bright Freedom's hallowed shrine;
And few, though rashly brave, would dare,
To start the Swamp Fox[2 - Swamp Fox was the cognomen bestowed on Marion by the British.] from his lair.
Or in his fastness wild and dun,
Cope with the rebel Marion.

V

Soon Huon by the river's tide
Sought out his brave commander's side,
And listened with respectful air,
To learn what new emprise to share,
What lurking foe to shun or brave.
Short was their conference and grave,
Ere Huon bade a trooper call
His page, young Lennard, to his aid;
And passing 'neath the cedar tall,
And giant oaks' far spreading shade,
The boy with graceful step and light,
Stood quickly in his captain's sight,
And Marion thus, in kindly tone,
Spoke with a frankness all his own.
"'T is said, my boy, thy heart is brave,
Thy courage sure, and caution grave;
This night, then, we will task thy power.
Seek, ere the closing of the hour,
The village inn that stands below,
Embowered within the coppice glade,
And learn the bearings of the foe —
Their force in camp, and field, and shade;
But ere the silver moon again
O'er Carolina's hills shall wane,
Meet us beside the deep lagoon
Beyond, that knows no scorching noon."