Forth from its scabbard all in vain Bright flashed the sword of Lee; 'Tis shrouded now in its sheath again, It sleeps the sleep of our noble slain, Defeated, yet without a stain, Proudly and peacefully. BOMBARDMENT OF VICKSBURG. BY PAUL H. HAYNE. _Dedicated with respect and admiration to Major-General Earl Van Dorn._ For sixty days and upwards A storm of shell and shot Rained round as in a flaming shower, But still we faltered not! "If the noble city perish," Our grand young leader said, "Let the only walls the foe shall scale Be ramparts of the dead!" For sixty days and upwards The eye of heaven waxed dim, And even throughout God's holy morn, O'er Christian's prayer and hymn, Arose a hissing tumult, As if the fiends of air Strove to engulf the voice of faith In the shrieks of their despair. There was wailing in the houses, There was trembling on the marts, While the tempest raged and thundered, 'Mid the silent thrill of hearts; But the Lord, our shield, was with us, And ere a month had sped, Our very women walked the streets, With scarce one throb of dread. And the little children gamboled-- Their faces purely raised, Just for a wondering moment, As the huge bombs whirled and blazed! Then turning with silvery laughter To the sports which children love, Thrice mailed in the sweet, instinctive thought, That the good God watched above.[17] Yet the hailing bolts fell faster From scores of flame-clad ships, And above us denser, darker, Grew the conflict's wild eclipse, Till a solid cloud closed o'er us, Like a type of doom and ire, Whence shot a thousand quivering tongues Of forked and vengeful fire. But the unseen hands of angels These death-shafts warned aside, And the dove of heavenly mercy Ruled o'er the battle tide; In the houses ceased the wailing, And through the war-scarred marts The people strode with the step of hope To the music in their hearts. COLUMBIA, S. C., _August 6, 1862_. "THE YANKEE DEVIL." BY W. P. RIVERS. The "Nondescript," or "Yankee Devil," for clearing the harbor, was washed ashore on yesterday at Morris Island, and is now in our possession. It is described as an old scow-like vessel, painted red, with a long protruding beak, and jutting iron prongs and claws, intended for the removal of torpedoes. It was attached to the Passaic, and managed by her during the engagement.--_Charleston Courier._ The enemy are waiting for a new machine ("Devil") to remove the torpedoes in the harbor, and to have everything in readiness before the attack.--_Same paper._ Hurrah! hurrah! good news and true, Our woes will soon be past; To Charleston, boys, all praise be due, The devil's caught at last. He's caught, he's dead, and met his fate On Morris Island's sands; His carcass lies in solemn state, The spoil of Rebel hands.