To the Beloved Memory of Maj. Gen. Tom Green and To the Memory of Col. Thos. S. Lubbock/To the Memory of Col. Thos. S. Lubbock

To the Beloved Memory of Maj. Gen. Tom Green and To the Memory of Col. Thos. S. Lubbock
by Edwin Hobby
To the Memory of Col. Thos. S. Lubbock (1862) by Alfred Marmaduke Hobby
3960988To the Beloved Memory of Maj. Gen. Tom Green and To the Memory of Col. Thos. S. Lubbock — To the Memory of Col. Thos. S. Lubbock (1862)Alfred Marmaduke Hobby

To the Memory of Col. Thos. S. Lubbock,

Who died in Nashville, Tenn., Jan. 9, 1862, while in the
service of his country, commanding the
Texas Rangers.


Dedicated to Gov. F. R. Lubbock, by Col. A. M. Hobby.


Drape in gloom, our Southern ensign—
Gently fold its crimson bars,
While cypress wreaths around we twine,
And dim with tears its burning stars.
Hearts are throbbing, eyes are weeping
Tears, on noble Lubbock’s grave;
Calm in death his form is sleeping—
Lamented Lubbock—true and brave.

But yesterday, the minute gun
Came booming on our shore,
And on our day a shadow hung—
Brave Terry was no more.
He died on the soil that gave him birth,
Defending his country’s trust;
Our vandal foes he crushed to earth,
Like servile worms of dust.

Thou, Lubbock, unto thee we turned,
To lead our Texan band;
We knew what fires within thee burned,
What courage nerved thy hand.
We felt that thou wouldst win from fame
A laurel wreath of glory,
And deeds of valor give thy name
High place in Southern story.

When, years ago, a single star
Illumined our Western sky,
Its radiant beams were hailed afar,
And caught his youthful eye.
Forsaking home, to aid the brave,
Foes and danger scorning,
To his adopted mother gave,
The vigor of life’s morning.

Where’er her ensign was unfurled,
Beneath were souls to dare;
And valor’s arm foes backward hurled,
In victory’s meteor glare.
He saw it wave, that Lone Star flag,
Above the Rocky Mountains,
Where frozen tears from the icy crag,
Weep into silver fountains.

He saw that flag reflected gleam,
Down deep in Pecos river;
Its azure folds, its silvery sheen,
On flowing waters quiver.
He saw it meet the rising day,
On Santa Fee’s broad plain,
Which cold and cheerless stretched away,
Where gloom and silence reign.

He saw that star the Heavens climb,
Through battles lurid light,
Still upward in its strength sublime,
Unutterably bright.
In Aztec’s dungeons dark and deep,
Its beams resplendent shedding,
He heard success, along fame’s steep,
Our mystic future treading.

Unchanging still through rest or toil,
His heart for Texas burning,
It loved her sons and blood bought soil,
It knew no shade of turning.
And when our honor was assailed,
Indignant shouts were raised;
The Lone Star fluttered in the gale,
And reddened, flashed and blazed.

It swept on high the fleecy cloud,
It sought a loftier station,
And joined ’midst cheers of freemen loud,
The Southern constellation.
And there it shines, God bless that star!
God bless her sister stars!—
’Tis Venus in the days of peace,
In war, the blood red Mars.

Upon Manassas’ gory field,
Where fell the shafts of death,
Its new-born splendor stood revealed,
’Midst battles sulphurous breath;
Where thickest rained war’s iron hail,
And gushed the crimson tide,
Undaunted there our Lubbock stood,
Brave Terry by his side.

Far in advance on Fairfax heights,
Raised by a tyrant’s minion,
They struck the flag that dared insult
Our honored Old Dominion.
Enough! they were strong friends in youth,
In Spring-time’s pleasant weather—
Two souls close bound in bonds of truth,
In death they sleep together.

Time’s brightest page their names adorn,
Their deeds are history’s trusts,
And fame’s green laurels, fresh as morn,
Will crown their honored busts.
The fevered frame and aching head,
Of Lubbock is at rest;
He sleepeth well, ’neath Southern skies,
Still looking to the West.

Proud Carolina ne’er has borne
A truer son or braver,
And like herself, he trampled on
Power’s threat or favor,
But pulseless lies that heart of worth
Beneath the swelling sod,
His body with its mother earth,
His spirit with its God.

On hearts bereaved—a pall is cast,
And withered seem life’s flowers;
Oh! let your tears flow free and fast;
With them shall mingle ours.
Eternal honor to the brave,
May Spring her garlands wreathe
Immortal blooms to deck his grave,
And Christ his soul receive.

St. Marys, Refugio, County, Feb. 15, 1862