Lines on the Death
of
Major Gen. E. Van Dorn,
C. S. A.
“Vile envy, with a serpent’s eye,
And slander’s tongue of blackest dye,
On thy pure name aspersions cast,
And triumph’d o’er thy fame at last!
But each dark tale of guilt and shame
Shall darker fly to whence it came!”
The bold and noble Earle Van Dorn,
The good old Southern brave,
Has by stern death been snatched away,
And lies within the grave.
He acted well his earthly part
In spite of envious foes,
And left behind a perfume sweet,
More fragrant than the rose.
The dastard hand that struck him down,
Will yet repent the day,
When, like the snake within the grass,
He took his life away.
One Peters, a black Lincoln man,
That done the wicked crime,
This damning deed shall be enrolled
Upon the scroll of time.
But brave Van Dorn will never die
As long as life shall last,
For all true hearts will love him still,
In memory of the past.
His noble deeds will shine as bright
As stars within the sky,
While all malicious, envious foes,
Will wither, blight and die.
