graphy of South Carolina.
Reviews in Periodicals [2 vols.].
Life of General Nathanael Greene.
History of South Carolina.
South Carolina in the Revolution.
War Poetry of the South.
Seven Dramas of Shakspere.

SONNET.--THE POET'S VISION.

Upon the Poet's soul they flash forever,
In evening shades, these glimpses strange and sweet;
They fill his heart betimes,--they leave him never,
And haunt his steps with sounds of falling feet;
He walks beside a mystery night and day;
Still wanders where the sacred spring is hidden;
Yet, would he take the seal from the forbidden,
Then must he work and watch as well as pray!
How work? How watch? Beside him--in his way,--
Springs without check the flow'r by whose choice spell,--
More potent than "herb moly,"--he can tell
Where the stream rises, and the waters play!--
Ah! spirits call'd avail not! On his eyes,
Sealed up with stubborn clay, the darkness lies.

THE DOOM OF OCCONESTOGA.

(_From Yemassee._)

[Occonestoga, the degenerate son of the Yemassee chief
Sanutee, has been condemned, for befriending the whites,
to a fate worse than death. The _totem_ of his tribe, an
arrow branded upon the shoulder, is to be cut and burnt
out by the executioner, Malatchie, and he is to be
declared accursed from his tribe and from their paradise
forever, "a slave of Opitchi-Manneyto," the evil
spirit.]

Occonestoga's head sank in despair, as he beheld the unchanging look
of stern resolve with which the unbending sire regarded him. For a
moment he was unmanned; until a loud shout of derision from the crowd
as they beheld the show of his weakness, came to the support of his
pride. The Indian shrinks from humiliation, where he would not shrink
from death; and, as the shout reached his ears, he shouted back his
defiance, raised his head loftily in air, and with the most perfect
composure, commenced singing his song of death, the song of many
victories.

"Wherefore sings he his death-song?" was the cry from many
voices,--"he is not to die!"

"Thou art the slave of Opitchi-Manneyto," cried Malatchie to the
captive, "thou shalt sing no lie of thy victories in the ear of
Yemassee. The slave of Opitchi-Manneyto has no triumph"--and the words
of the song were effectually drowned, if not silenced, in the
tremendous clamor which they raised about him. It was then that
Malatchie claim