Even they-the dead-though dead, so dear; Fond Memory, to her duty true,
Brings back their faded forms to view. How life-like, through the mist of years, Each well-remember'd face appears! We see them, as in times long past, From each to each kind looks are cast; We hear their words, their smiles behold, They're round us, as they were of old- We are all here.
We are all here!
Father, Mother,
Sister, Brother,
You that I love with love so dear. This may not long of us be said; Soon must we join the gather'd dead; And by the hearth we now sit round, Some other circle will be found. Oh! then, that wisdom may we know, Which yields a life of peace below; So, in the world to follow this, May each repeat, in words of bliss, We're all-all here!
THE ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM.
HERE are old trees, tall oaks and gnarled pines, That stream with gray-green mosses; here the ground Was never touch'd by spades, and flowers spring up Unsown, and die ungather'd. It is sweet
To linger here, among the flitting birds
And leaping squirrels, wandering brooks and winds That shake the leaves, and scatter as they pass A fragrance from the cedars thickly set
With pale blue berries. In these peaceful shades— Peaceful, unpruned, immeasurably old—
My thoughts go up the long dim path of years, Back to the earliest days of Liberty.
O FREEDOM! thou art not as poets dream, A fair young girl, with light and delicate limbs, And wavy tresses gushing from the cap
With which the Roman master crown'd his slave, When he took off the gyves, A bearded man,
Arm'd to the teeth, art thou: one mailed hand
Grasps the broad shield, and one the sword; thy brow, Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarr'd
With tokens of old wars; thy massive limbs
Are strong and struggling. Power at thee has launch'd His bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee; They could not quench the life thou hast from Heaven. Merciless Power has dug thy dungeon deep,
And his swart armourers, by a thousand fires, Have forged thy chain; yet while he deems thee bound, The links are shiver'd, and the prison walls Fall outward; terribly thou springest forth, As springs the flame above a burning pile,
ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM.
And shoutest to the nations, who return Thy shoutings, while the pale oppressor flies.
Thy birth-right was not given by human hands: Thou wert twin-born with man. In pleasant fields, While yet our race was few, thou satst with him, To tend the quiet flock and watch the stars, And teach the reed to utter simple airs. Thou by his side amid the tangled wood Didst war upon the panther and the wolf, Thine only foes: and thou with him didst draw The earliest furrows on the mountain side, Soft with the Deluge. Tyranny himself, Thy enemy, although of reverend look, Hoary with many years, and far obey'd, Is later born than thou; and as he meets The grave defiance of thine elder eye, The usurper trembles in his fastnesses.
Thou shalt wax stronger with the lapse of years, But he shall fade into a feebler age;
Feebler, yet subtler; he shall weave his snares, And spring them on thy careless steps, and clap His wither'd hands, and from their ambush call His hordes to fall upon thee. He shall send Quaint maskers, forms of fair and gallant mien, To catch thy gaze, and uttering graceful words To charm thy ear; while his sly imps by stealth, Twine round thee threads of steel, light thread on thread, That grow to fetters; or bind down thy arms With chains conceal'd in chaplets. Oh! not yet May'st thou unbrace thy corslet, or lay by Thy sword, nor yet, O Freedom! close thy lids In slumber; for thine enemy never sleeps. And thou must watch and combat, till the day
Of the new Earth and Heaven. But wouldst thou rest
A while from tumult and the frauds of men, These old and friendly solitudes invite Thy visit. They, while yet the forest trees Were young upon the inviolated Earth,
And yet the moss-stains on the rock were new, Beheld thy glorious childhood, and rejoiced.
SEE how yon flaming herald treads The ridged and rolling waves, As, crashing o'er their crested heads, She bows her surly slaves! With foam before and fire behind, She rends the clinging sea, That flies before the roaring wind, Beneath her hissing lee.
The morning spray, like sea-born flowers, With heap'd and glistening bells, Falls round her fast in ringing showers, With every wave that swells; And, flaming o'er the midnight deep, In lurid fringes thrown,
The living gems of ocean sweep Along her flashing zone.
With clashing wheel, and lifting keel,
And smoking torch on high, When winds are loud, and billows reel,
She thunders foaming by!
When seas are silent and serene,
With even beam she glides,
The sunshine glimmering through the green That skirts her gleaming sides.
THE STEAMBOAT.
Now, like a wild nymph, far apart She veils her shadowy form, The beating of her restless heart
Still sounding through the storm; Now answers, like a courtly dame, The reddening surges o'er, With flying scarf of spangled flame, The Pharos of the shore.
To-night yon pilot shall not sleep, Who trims his narrow'd sail; To-night yon frigate scarce shall keep Her broad breast to the gale; And many a foresail, scoop'd and strain'd, Shall break from yard and stay,
Before this smoky wreath has stain'd The rising mist of day.
Hark! hark! I hear yon whistling shroud, I see yon quivering mast;
The black throat of the hunted cloud Is panting forth the blast!
An hour, and, whirl'd like winnowing chaff, The giant surge shall fling His tresses o'er yon pennon-staff,
White as the sea-bird's wing!
Yet rest, ye wanderers of the deep; Nor wind nor wave shall tire Those fleshless arms, whose pulses leap With floods of living fire;
Sleep on-and when the morning light Streams o'er the shining bay,
Oh, think of those for whom the night
Shall never wake in day!
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