For my dear young friend,

            Mr. William Orlando Albright.

 

"We are living, we are dwelling

            In a grand and awful time;

In an age, on ages telling,

            To be living is sublime!

                        ———

Hark! the waking up of nations,

            Gog and Magog to the Fray,

Hark! what soundeth—is creation

            Groaning for its latter day?

                        ———

Will ye play, then? will ye dally

            With your music and your wine?

Up! it is Jehovah's rally!

            God's own arm hath need of thine.

                        ———

Hark! the onset! will ye fold your

            Faith-clad arms in lazy look?

Up! oh, up! thou drowsy soldier,

            Worlds are charging to the shock!

                        ———

Worlds are charging; heaven beholding;

            Thou hast but an hour to fight;

Now the blazoned cross unfolding,

            On! right onward for the right!

                        ——— /

On! let all the soul within you,

            For the truth's sake go abroad;

Strike! let every nerve and sinew

            Tell on ages,—tell for God!"

 

————        //          ————

 

            The preceding verses are written by the Rev John H. Aughey, a Presbyterian minister of the gospel in Mi the State of Mississippi, author of a book, entitled 'The Iron Furnace or Slavery and Servitude' (in which, by the way, one may learn something about the beauties of slavery), who, by reason of his being a good Union man, was imprisoned by the slave-drivers and rebels, and, for that reason alone, would have been put to death by them, had he not, by the assistance and cooperation of some of his fellow-prisoners, made good his escape, in an almost miraculous manner. I am in possession of this book, and I thought I would communicate to you the above lines, that, by reading them, you may remember your old friend. I did not think that you would still recollect or remember me. I have known you only as a sweet little boy, and to judge from your kind and pleasant letter, which I read with great pleasure, and for which I am much obliged to you, you must, by all appearances, have become a very smart young man. Oh, how I should like to possess your photographic likeness! I ask your pardon for my having been silent for so long a period of time, and I hope to obtain your forgiveness, by telling you, that I have very little time for my disposal. I have only space left to say to you: Farewell, my dear young friend! I remain respectfully, your old friend, Charles Kretschmar.

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