Timrod enlisted, but finding his constitution too weak to undergo
the hardships of camp life, he contented himself with service as
army correspondent. In 1864 he accepted an appointment as editor
of the South Carolinian at Columbia. Feeling now settled, he mar
ried Miss Kate Goodwin, an English girl resident in Charleston.
But his happiness was of brief duration. Disease was making in
roads upon his frail body, the death of his young son added to his
sorrows, and the desolation of war rendered him destitute of property.
Consumption eventually overcame him, and in 1867 he was laid to
rest. Timrod wrote some beautiful and enduring lyrics dealing with
love and nature, but he most deeply stirred his generation by his
martial and patriotic poems. Hence his sobriquet, "The Laureate
of the Confederacy."]
CAROLINA 1
The despot treads thy sacred sands, Thy pines give shelter to his bands, Thy sons stand by with idle hands, Carolina! He breathes at ease thy airs of balm, He scorns the lances of thy palm; Oh! who shall break thy craven calm, Carolina! Thy ancient fame is growing dim, A spot is on thy garment s rim; Give to the winds thy battle hymn, Carolina! Call on thy children of the hill, Wake swamp and river, coast and rill, Rouse all thy strength and all thy skill, Carolina! 1 The selections from Timrod are reprinted from the Memorial Edition through the courtesy of the holder of the copyright, B. F. Johnson Publishing Co.
