Poetry: C. M. Clay's Wife And Mother

Tho following anonymous poem was 6ent to Mr. Cly irom Ashtabula county. O. " All but my wifc anti mother advis:d mt to yield."-Ajp;al of C. M. Clay. - Worthy to bo a hero's bride! - Thou-who, in Peril's hour. Stood cnhnly by the suffercr's sido, Wnh heart that could not cowcr. Truc hoaried womon! - thou bast won A bright, immortnl wreatli- Thou who could'st nerve ihy loved onc on To Victory - or Death ! IVhcn fierce Oppression's wildest storm Was pclting on lus hcnd - Vhen Slavery raiscd her murderous arm A'bove that fevcred bed - Wheh foes vrerc rush'm? like n flood, And friends werc quaiüng there, ' Tvaa hclpless Womans heart thot stood, Alone unbowcd by fear. Yes, ManhoodVsoul of iron could fail Before the raging power ;# And Fricndship's flusliing zea! could quail In that decisivo hour. Ttoo voices bade him verer ehrink Beneath the de.idly strife : i They who to him w'ere closest linked - That mother and that icife ! ' The frngile form whose nll of hopo Upon his life wa3 hur.g-That mother who had cherishcd That head ftince lift was young ; Tho gelitle-heart'cd wife. whosc hand To hia hnd trusting clung- l'hcse badb the victini proudly stand, Where perils swept along !Áy trüsiing wÖrnoii - fcnrless wife ! Thihfe was tbc noblcst part- Thine wna thé bittercst, wüdest strifo OF loting wofnnh'è hfcart. o waich ihnt lone couch of paih'; Ín Love'á strong agony- To cool thnt wildly thfobbing brnini Still- fililí- unccas'mgly ! And then !- to scnt thíe cáímly t'teii By that faint victim's eide,' And trahe with thine own fearlcss pèn; Bia wotds of dauntless p'ido ; Ratlicr wiih him toj hrnvely sink, Than bend to Slatenj's poVk-er ! Öh Lovc ! thou onbj cansí noi sink In danger's darkest hour r ÍVo crowh tlic nnmPá oí Spartnn dnmeá With nn immortnl life, And hcr's wlio punk 'mid Áfíic'e fiair.cs - Asdrubal's peerlces wifc. Bring 'orth for Acra noble wreath', Who. not for dealhless Famt, t-ooked calmly in thè face or Death- For Fnoiom's sacred name Vorthy to bc n liero's wifc, Thou hcrornc tficd and truc ! - "Vonby to givo lliat liero lifc, Thou patriot mothcr. too ! Tor you wo pluck no laurel trce- We twine no fnding lny : Colutnbia's crown is yours- to be The mathcr-xcifc-oi Clat !