DEDICATION OF THE WARRENTON (VA.) MEMORIAL SHAFT. POEM BY JAMES BARRON HOPE-LAYING OF THE CORNER-STONE. [From the Warrenton (Va.) True Index, June 28, 1873.] The ladies of the Fauquier Memorial Association were agreeably surprised by the arrival of General Hampton in Warrenton on Monday, in answer to their invitation to deliver an address here on the occasion of the unveiling of the monument to the memory of the Confederate dead in our cemetery, which they expected, but had been disappointed in obtaining. Having concluded to avail themselves of his presence, they had little time to give circulation to their purpose. Such, however, was the interest felt in the work and the orators, that a large concourse of citizens from country and town were in attendance. The Governor introduced General Hampton as the Chevalier Bayard of the South, and he proceeded to deliver the elevated sentiments, which, through the kindness of the ladies, we are enabled to publish to-day. * * * * * After the address, a procession was formed in front of the Warren Green, preceded by the Fredericksburg Cornet Band and escorted by the cadets of Bethel Academy, under command of Colonel Lightfoot of Confederate fame. The procession then marched to the cemetery, where the corner-stone of the monument was laid with the imposing ceremonies of the Masonic Order. Governor Smith, upon whose head rests the snows of many winters, but whose heart-beats are as quick as those of a youth, was constituted Master of Ceremonies, and John R. Spilman Field Marshal. After appropriate prayer by Rev. J. S. Lindsay, Captain Hope's admirable poem, which we have the pleasure of reproducing, was read. VIRGINIA'S DAUGHTERS TO VIRGINIA'S DEFENDERS. A MEMORIAL ODE. BY CAPTAIN JAMES BARRON HOPE. "We live in an age that makes truth pass for treason."-Algernon Sidney, from the scaffold, December 7, 1683 "Living," as noble Sidney said— Sidney whose fame with time expands In a hard age where simple "truth' For deadly "treason" stands, We come to raise this mournful shaft Of heroes who laid down their lives For what they deemed most just. Antigone herself was not More tender in her pious care Virginia's daughters are. Of their dead brothers, who now sleep Beneath this ever-hallowed sod, Where floral epitaphs will bloom All written by our God. And were that fate reserved for us Heap up the turf-heave high the shaftPay homage to these cold remains— And testify their cause went down Free from dishonor's stains, No brutal Creon here may cry: "Off from your dead!" No sentry's gun Shall drive the stricken mother's foot Back from her sleeping son. The bravest of the brave who fought And such would plant above these graves II. Here all is peace, for them at least, Deep as some tropic island's calm, When hymns rise from the breakers and Here thoughtful pilgrims yet shall stand, To Him, and to the world, they've left In Faith and Duty strong!' III. Unknown of men, here many sleep, Within this grave-yard's tender gloomUnknown, because a Vandal foe Assailed each quiet tomb, The rustic head-boards which once marked Each valiant warrior's silent post Flamed in barbaric camp-fires when The head-long, raiding host *Inscription on monument. Swept this calm spot with cruel hoof And sought to work these sleepers shame : But not unknown of God they sleep He knows the sep'rate name Of each slain hero. Here He sends As Springs and Summers pass. IV. They need no Almoners of Fame To give them laurel crown or bust; Their deeds will live when shaft and ura Have crumbled into dust! No "Old Mortality" need e'er A Roman Emperor, when death Stood full before his steadfast eye, Cried out and said: "Come, lift me up, For I would standing die," |