Farewell! notices are broken, though
I have tarried long upon thy soil;
Farewell! though coming as a foe
I leave thee without hate or spoil;
And parting thus, forever let
The stranger hope that you may yet
Rise from your living grave and stand,
Before the nations just and great,
Protecting all within the land,
A free and independent State.
Farewell! thy spires are sinking fast
Behind yon gray volcanic hills,
I feel this look will be the last,
Yet no regret my bosom fills.
For all my hopes and all my fears
Are with the scenes of earlier years;
Fond memories fast around me throng,
And shall I, can I, break the spell?
One parting word—a deep, a long,
A hearty, and a last farewell!
Tuesday, June 20, 1848.—This morning I got up wet and stiff, it having rained all last night and being exposed thereto. Some of our men are still sea-sick and much discouraged by the treatment we are getting.
At noon the weather appeared beautiful, a pleasant breeze stirring.
Wednesday, June 21, 1848.—This morning looked fine and pleasant, and nearly all the sea-sick men are getting well fast.
At noon our mess (what is left) had a good dinner of sour crout; and for supper we had dried apples, pickles, onions, all captured last evening. Soldiers will not starve as long as anything can be got to eat.
Thursday, June 22, 1848.—This morning there was a considerable fuss on board the ship on account of some of our soldiers stealing a little pig out of the ship captain's cabin, and search was made for the lost pig, but all in vain.
To-day we spoke several schooners and ships, all bound for Vera Cruz to take troops on board.