Anti-slavery Days: A Sketch of the Struggle which Ended in the Abolition of Slavery in the United States

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R. Worthington, 1883 - 224 psl.

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69 psl. - Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or evil side; Some great cause, God's New Messiah, offering each the bloom or blight, Parts the goats upon the left hand and the sheep upon the right; And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light.
98 psl. - New occasions teach new duties; Time makes ancient good uncouth; They must upward still, and onward, who would keep abreast of Truth; Lo! before us gleam her camp-fires, we ourselves must Pilgrims be. Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly through the desperate winter sea, Nor attempt the Future's portal with the Past's bloodrusted key.
205 psl. - Great captains, with their guns and drums, Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all' are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame. The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man, Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, New birth of our new soil, the first American.
146 psl. - A pillar of state ; deep on his front engraven Deliberation sat, and public care ; And princely counsel in his face yet shone, Majestic, though in ruin : sage he stood With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies ; his look Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noontide air...
35 psl. - I am in earnest. I will not equivocate — I will not excuse — I will not retreat a single inch. AND I WILL BE HEARD.
204 psl. - Nature, they say, doth dote, And cannot make a man Save on some worn-out plan, Repeating us by rote : For him her Old- World moulds aside she threw, And, choosing sweet clay from the breast Of the unexhausted West, With stuff untainted shaped a hero new, Wise, steadfast in the strength of God, and true.
139 psl. - Scorn! would the angels laugh, to mark A bright soul driven, Fiend-goaded, down the endless dark. From hope and heaven! Let not the land once proud of him Insult him now, Nor brand with deeper shame his dim, Dishonored brow.
167 psl. - This thought might lead me through the world's vain mask Content though blind, had I no better guide.
224 psl. - She that lifts up the manhood of the poor, She of the open soul and open door, With room about her hearth for all mankind...

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