^ibvavy of (tongvfjs-s. 
 
 rNrCKI) STATES OK AMERICA. 
 
^^ 
 
 THE BATTLE, 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS, 
 
 Btriolrt aiti lantoroas; 
 
 By THOMAS CLARKE, 
 
 Author of "Sir Copp," "The Two Angels," "A Day In May," etc 
 
 J 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 
 CLARKE & COMPANY, PUBLISHERS. 
 187 I. 
 

 Entered according to act of Congress, In the year 1870 
 
 By THOMAS CLARKE, 
 
 In the Clerk's Ollice of the District Court of the United States, for tho 
 ^^orthern District of Illinois. 
 
 DAIiVKAU ct CLARKE. PRTNTICKS. 
 170 Wiuiliington St., Chicago. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Preface, 
 
 . 6 
 
 Introduction, 
 
 1 
 
 The Battle, ..... 
 
 . . 19 
 
 Edmund Burke, 
 
 35 
 
 William Pitt, (Lord Chatham,) . 
 
 . 39 
 
 The Bereaved Father, . . . . 
 
 43 
 
 The Lament, 
 
 . 47 
 
 Washington, , ... . • . 
 
 49 
 
 Mrs Merrill, 
 
 . 53 
 
 Miss M' Crea, 
 
 51 
 
 The Old Man on the Cliff, 
 
 . 65 
 
 Address of the Greeks, 
 
 69 
 
 The Maid of Concord, 
 
 . n 
 
 An Ode for the New Year, 1858, 
 
 Y5 
 
 Items from Pekin, .... 
 
 . 19 
 
 Celet^tials in Chicago, . 
 
 83 
 
4 CONTENTS. 
 
 The Praise of Liberty, 91 
 
 The Fugitive, OV 
 
 Tliauksgiviiig Day, 1859, . . . .103 
 
 All Ainerican Sunset, . . . • .107 
 New Year's Greeting for 1801, , . .111 
 
 Ode for tlie New Year, 18G2, ... 119 
 
 New Year's Ad.h-ess, 1862, . . . .129 
 Carrier's Address, 1863, .... 143 
 
 The Power of Music, ..... 153 
 
 The Power of Eloquence, . . . ,163 
 llymn for Thanksgiving, 1863, . . .179 
 
 Epithalamiuin, ...... 185 
 
 Lily Belle, 1H9 
 
 The Impending Battle, . , . . 191 
 
 The President's Wooing, . . . .201 
 
 The Return of Peace, 2U 
 
 To My Daughter, Florence, . . . .215 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 It is proper to inform the reader, that many ot 
 the poems in this volume, especially those written 
 during the rebellion, have already been published in 
 various papers ; and, it is hoped, have exerted some 
 influence on the public mind, for the good of the 
 country. Although deeply tinged with the feelings, 
 perhaps with the prejudices of the times in which 
 they were written, they will yet serve to throw a 
 light on the history of that period, which could not 
 be derived from any other source. A few of the 
 pieces in this collection might justly lay claim to 
 something of a prophetic character, if the author 
 were disposed to affect the marvellous or the super- 
 natural. He merely states this to illustrate a truth 
 established of old, that 
 
 " Great experience may attain 
 
 To Bomething of prophetic strain," 
 
6 PREFACE. 
 
 and that a careful observer of passing events can 
 liardly fiil to be impressed with the coming issues, 
 if he will view them by the unerring light of the 
 past. 
 
 To illustrate : — The poem entitled " The Piaise 
 of Liberty " was printed, as it now stnnds, in the 
 Springfield (111.,) Register, in the year 1856. 
 
 "The Ode for the New Year, 1858," was prhited 
 in the Springfield (111.,) Journal, on January Ist 
 of that year, as it is given in this book. It will be 
 seen at a glance, that the prophecy it contains has 
 been verified to the letter. 
 
 "The Ode for the New Year, 1862," published in 
 the Union Herald, of Springfield, (111.,) contains a 
 prophecy respecting Great Britain, which is even 
 now on the eve of accomplishment; and which the 
 present generation will doubtless see fulfilled. Other 
 examples might be given, did space permit. 
 
 With regard to the poems of the Revolution, con- 
 tained in this collection, the reader will find the 
 author's views more fully explained in the following 
 Introduction. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 "Brave men lived before Agamemnon," says 
 Horace; "but the glory of their achievements died 
 with them, because they lacked the sacred poet to 
 hand down their fame to posterity." The " sacred 
 poet " here indicated was Homer. 
 
 Homer ! The very name is fraught with associa- 
 tions of grandeur, sublimity, heroism and all that is 
 great and glorious amongst men; and the noble 
 strains he has sung will live as long as this earth shall 
 endure. 
 
 But his theme is not adequate to the strain ; the 
 workmanship surpasses the material ; and the poet has 
 far more honor from the manner in which he treats 
 his subjects, than the heroes themselves, whose deeds, 
 though for the most part meritorious, have been ren- 
 
8 INTRODUCTION 
 
 (lered still more illustrious by the splendor imparted 
 to them through the medium of the poet. 
 
 The theme of the Iliad is the wrath of a single 
 hero and the siege and capture of a single city by 
 associated Greece, to avenge the private wrongs of a 
 prince whose cause they had sworn to defend ; and 
 on this slight foundation has been built the most 
 noble poetical structure, the grandest monument of 
 human genius that has ever been created by man, and 
 bequeathed to a grateful posterity for its delight and 
 instruction. 
 
 We are at a loss to imagine what might have been 
 the nature of that poet's song, if he could have had 
 such a theme for his muse as the great American 
 Revolution ; if, instead of the wrath of one man, his 
 theme had embraced the wrath of millions; if, instead 
 of the siege of a single city, he had had to describe 
 the invasion of a mighty continent; and if, instead of 
 the private wrongs of a single prince, he had been 
 forced to depict the intolerable wrongs of a whole 
 nation — tlie wrongs of humanity embodied in that 
 
INTKODUCTION. 9 
 
 nation — who can conceive what might liave been the 
 grandeur of his strain and the mighty thunders of 
 his denunciation ? 
 
 It is but once in many generations that such a bene- 
 factor of tlie human race appears amongst men, and 
 when he does appear, he is generally far in advance 
 of his age, and is either unknown or unappreciated by 
 his fellow men. This was the case with Homer. 
 
 By his own generation he was not recognized as 
 that mighty monarch of poets which the world after- 
 wards unanimously acknowledged him to be. 
 
 It was not until the eighth century before the Chris- 
 tian era, when Pisistratus had collected the poems of 
 Homer into one volume, that his great merits, his ex- 
 traordinary genius, began to be seen and felt by his 
 countrymen. 
 
 But it may be said that had Homer lived in this age 
 of universal literature, science and progress, his fate 
 would have been different. He would at once have 
 taken his proper position in society and been honored 
 and rewarded accordingr to his merits. 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Perhaps so! Of one thiiif^, liowevor, there is no 
 doubt. He wouhl liiive had a far moi'e noble theme 
 for the exercise of liis great powers than any pre- 
 sented to liini in his own day. Tlie American llevo- 
 hition would have found in him an adequate exponent 
 of its miglity principles, and its Agamemnon, the 
 ilhistrious Wasliington, would not liave been deprived 
 of the "sacred poet" to do justice to merits wliich 
 require a character similar to his for dignity and 
 simplicity to duly appreciate, and a genius equal to 
 liis own to j^aint wortliily. 
 
 That great revohition and its lieroes still lack the 
 " sacred poet " to hand down their glory and their 
 fame to the most distant posterity. History alone 
 cannot do this ; for, at best, it is tame and inadequate 
 to produce that vivid impression on the mind wliich 
 is essential to the eternalizing of true fame. 
 
 Tt is the poet alone who can do justice in this 
 department. Achilles and Agamemnon require their 
 Homer; but where shall we find him? 
 
INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 Ages may pass away before such a consummation 
 can be realized. But the time will come, at last. 
 
 Then, and not till then, will the great temple of 
 our liberties be crowned with honor and glory. 
 
 In the meantime, we should each contribute our 
 quota of labor to build up the contemplated struc- 
 ture. Some can work in the quarry, and some can 
 hew out the marble ; some can clear away the rub- 
 bish, and others prepare the foundation ; all can and 
 ought to work together, at least to provide the 
 material and have it ready for the great architect 
 when he shall appear. 
 
 The late rebellion, also, and the sacrifices and 
 heroic deeds which have been exhibited, in order to 
 quell the same, present scenes and incidents worthy 
 of the grandest efibrts of the muse ; and are sugges- 
 tiv^e of themes which, if treated as they deserve, will 
 conduce to the same glorious results. 
 
 With this object in view, the author of the present 
 work has prepai*ed a few corner stones which, 
 
12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 perhaps, may be deemed wortliy of :i })lace in this 
 great temple. 
 
 He wished also to keep alive in the bosoms of the 
 present generation that appreciation and earnest love 
 of liberty, for which their fathers have saciificed so 
 much; since in the enjcn'ment of jieace and the other 
 blessings of Heaven, men are too prone to forget their 
 duties, and to become apathetic and careless in the 
 performance of the same. The author, moreover, 
 believed that the down-trodden nations of the old 
 world might learn, from the example of American 
 heroes, not only to value liberty in the abstract, but 
 to risk their fortunes, lives and sacred honor to 
 attain it. 
 
 For this end, he has embodied the most interesting 
 portions of the revolutionary history, as well as of 
 the late rebellion, in poetical pictures thnt, being 
 condensed, they may impress the imagination more 
 vividly, and thus be fixed indelibly on the memory. 
 
 And first and pre-eminent amongst all others, is 
 that crowning glory of heroic patriotism and genuine 
 
INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 manhood — the most stupendous event that ever 
 occurred in any kind — and that is the battle of 
 Bunker Hill. No battle of ancient or modern times 
 can be compared with this in moral grandeur and 
 the mighty results which sprung from it. 
 
 Marathon, Thermopylae, Salamis and Plati^a were 
 insignificant, when compared with Bmiker Hill, both 
 in the circumstances that surrounded them and 
 the events which followed. Even the most bloody 
 and obstinate conflicts of the late rebellion, though 
 on a far more extensive scale, fall infinitely short of 
 Bunker Hill in one essential point. AH these strug- 
 gles were carried on by disciplined troops brought 
 face to face with disciplined troops, whatever might 
 be their disparity in numbers and strength; but 
 Bunker Hill was the victory of the people over the 
 tyranny of despotism. It presented the subhme 
 spectacle of a people without skilled leaders, without 
 discipline, without arms and ammunition, rising up 
 in their majesty and defying the serried ranks of a 
 mighty empu-e — troops accustomed to battle and 
 
14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 flushed with victory, conscious of their strength, 
 and marching with drums beating and colors flying, 
 as if to certain victory — as if they were about to 
 swallow up the small baud of simple rustics who 
 awaited tlieir attack in perfect silence, as though 
 awe-struck by the display of so much pomp, so 
 much noise and so mucli valor; but who, to the 
 astonishment of their assailants, still remained 
 steadily at their posts, behind the fi-ail entrenchments 
 they had hastily thrown up in the night, until they 
 could distinctly discern the " white " of an enemy's 
 eye ; and then, instead of slinking ofl" in afli'ight, 
 they received the exulting foe with sueli a welcome 
 of bullets, with such volleys of musketry admirably 
 du-ected and perseveringly sustained, as to cause 
 them to pause in their career for a moment, and then 
 suddenly break their ranks and fly, in order to 
 escape the inevitable death which stared them in the 
 face ! 
 
 Rallied with difficulty by their officers and by cries 
 of shame and threats of vengeance, they returned 
 
INTKODUCTION. 16 
 
 once and again to the attack, with the same fatal 
 result. But the colonists lost the victory which they 
 had already grasped, by a lack of arms and ammu- 
 nition, supplied with which, their success had been 
 secured. Even their repulse was equal to a victory ; 
 for not only did it teach the colonists their own 
 strength, but it showed the British tyrants what sort 
 of enemies they had to contend with, and it so 
 damped their courage, that it may truly be said to 
 have been the hinge upon which the ultimate success 
 of the American cause turned. Hence it is the 
 noblest theme of this nature which could possibly be 
 chosen to celebrate the force of character, the tenacity 
 of purpose, the patriotism and the heroic courage 
 of any peoplo; and the wonder is, that it has not 
 long since been seized upon by some of the eminent 
 American poets who have adorned the literature of 
 their country with the productions of their genius. 
 
 It has been the aim of the author to paint the 
 absorbing events and stirring scenes of this great 
 battle in their simple and natural colors, so as to give 
 
10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the reader a view of it as it was, and tliiis fix its 
 scent's, as well as the principk's whicli gave thuni 
 being, indelibly on his mind. 
 
 In the following poem, the narrative is supposed 
 to proceed from one who took an active part in the 
 whole alfair, and who, therefore, could be supposed 
 to give a true and vivid idea, not only of the 
 external scene, but also of the feelings, the hopes 
 and fears of those who took a part in it as actors, 
 and those who were merely spectators. 
 
 Here it will be seen that poetry takes a higher 
 stand-j)oint than history ; for while the latter is a 
 calm and unimpassioned narrative of events as they 
 occurred in the past, it is the province of the former 
 to re})roduce the past with all its scenes and feelings, 
 and to present them to our view as if they were 
 ti-anspiring before us ; thus enlisting all our sym- 
 pathies in the events, and causing us to take sides 
 with the actors, whether we will or no. 
 
INTBODUCTION. 17 
 
 Such have been the views and aims of the present 
 wi'iter. How far he may have succeeded in realizing 
 them, it is not his to judge. It is for the candid 
 reader to judge this matter and decide for 
 himself. 
 
THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 
 
 Entrenched on Bunker Hill we stood, 
 
 A patriotic band, 
 (Excuse the boast,) prepared to die 
 
 Or free our fatherland. 
 And we had labored all night long 
 
 To raise the rampart high, 
 Nor ceased our toil when morning's beam 
 
 Had tinged the Eastern sky. 
 Now by that dubious, twilight ray 
 
 We scanned the scene around ; 
 The neighboring city in the shade 
 
 Was wrapped in sleep profound ; 
 
20 THE BATTLE 
 
 Save that when dreams of pending ill 
 
 Disturbed the sleepers' sleep, 
 As some would turn upon their couch, 
 
 Or wake to sigh and weep ; 
 For hostile troops, the livelong night, 
 
 Were pacing to and fro ; 
 And sentinels exchange the word. 
 
 As to theii' posts they go. 
 And oft an oath or drunken brawl 
 
 Would strike the slumberer's ear. 
 Whom turning to his couch once more, 
 
 A pleasing thought would cheer. 
 For well he knew, beyond the walls 
 
 A host of heroes lay. 
 Prepared to march at Freedom's call, 
 
 And sweep the foe away. 
 
 Beneath the hill on wliich we stood 
 
 A peaceful village slept, 
 Which soon might be a ruined mass. 
 
 From its foundation swept; 
 
OF BUNKER HILL. 21 
 
 The distant bay to eastward stretched. 
 
 Unruffled by a breeze ; 
 The tranquil river lay beneath ; 
 
 Around were floweis and trees, 
 Whence little warblers poured their lays, 
 
 Unconscious of all ill ; 
 The cock's shrill clarion sounded clear 
 
 O'er rock and dale and hill ; 
 The cattle, as they hied to field, 
 
 With lowiiigs filled the air ; 
 All nature, save the heart of man, 
 
 Seemed void of fear or care ; 
 But he dejected and forlorn 
 
 Is prone to doubt and fear. 
 When dangers press, till gleams from heaven 
 
 His drooping spirits cheer; 
 Then trusting to this tower of strength 
 
 From which his course to scan, 
 He soars above the ills of life. 
 
 And feels himself a man. 
 Such sentiments our souls inspired, 
 
 As there we stood and thouo-ht 
 
22 THE BATTLE 
 
 That freedom for our fatherland 
 
 Miglit by our hands be wrought; 
 That haply, too, the sacred spot 
 
 On which we raised that mound 
 Might, in the future pilgrim's eyes, 
 
 Be consecrated ground; 
 That distant lands and ages might 
 
 Our love and valor praise, 
 And columns to our glorious deeds 
 
 In grateful memory raise. 
 But hark ! The Lively, Biitish sloop, 
 
 Our strong position spies, 
 And, to dislodge us from the i:)Ost, 
 
 By cannonading tries. 
 But vainly on our ramparts firm 
 
 Her shells and bullets fall; 
 One only man is hurt ; the rest 
 
 Work steady on the wall ; 
 Until our stakes are deeply set, 
 
 Our cross-tics well knit in. 
 And we are ready for the fight; 
 So let the tight begin ! 
 
OF BUNKER HILL. 23 
 
 Meanwhile, the steeples, roofs and heights 
 
 Of Boston and all round, 
 With anxious, palpitating hearts, 
 
 To view the fight, were crowned. 
 What strange emotions filled men's souls. 
 
 As there they gazing stood I 
 Two daring hosts prepared to shed 
 
 Each other's kindred blood ! 
 One gleaming bright in shining steel. 
 
 Backed by an empire's might ; 
 The other having no prestige 
 
 Save corn-age based on right; 
 111 clothed, worse armed, undisciplined, 
 
 Discouraged by the ban 
 Through which base tyranny unnerves 
 
 The ai'm — blots out the man ; 
 And risking, by a single cast, 
 
 Then- country, honor, fame ; 
 One doubtful hour must now decide 
 
 The slave's or hero's name ! 
 Good Heavens ! it is a fearful risk ; 
 
 To Heaven they bend in prayer ; 
 
24 THE BATTLE 
 
 " God for the n<jht incline Uie tight!" 
 And hope succeeds to fear. 
 
 Soon from our ramparts we descried 
 
 The British force advance, 
 A gallant host as ever bore 
 
 A banner, sword or lance ; 
 Bright glanced then- armor in the sun ; 
 
 Bright gleamed their scarlet sheen ; 
 Proud was their tread and confident; 
 
 Their courage bold and keen. 
 Their flag waved lightly in the breeze ; 
 
 Loud pealed their trumpet's clang. 
 But to its threatening voice the rocks 
 
 Alone responsive rang ! 
 The infantry upon their right 
 
 By gallant Howe were led ; 
 Upon their left the grenadiers 
 
 Bold Pigot marshalled ; 
 Their numbers were two thousand strong, 
 
 All veterans well tried. 
 
OF BUXKER HILL. 25 
 
 While fifteen hundred raw recruits 
 We mustered on our side. 
 
 And now the cannon's opening roar 
 
 Announced their work begun ; 
 But oft they paused in their career 
 
 To view the mischief done. 
 Meantime, behind our ramparts, wo, 
 
 Unmoved, reserved our fire. 
 Until the British Hue advance 
 
 Yet nigher still and nigher. 
 *' Brothers," brave Warren cried, " be men ! 
 
 God will confound the wrong, 
 The race is not unto the swift, 
 
 The battle to the strong ! 
 Remember, on each arm, this day, 
 
 Kot merely hang your lives ; 
 You fight for homes and altars free. 
 
 For sweethearts and for wives. 
 The insolent foe advance with pomp 
 
 Your courage to alarm ; 
 
 *2 • 
 
26 THE BATTLE 
 
 Teach them the niiglity power that sleeps 
 
 Withiu a yeoman's arm ! 
 That patriots in their country's cause 
 
 Are towers of strength., and still 
 Can crush tyrannic power sustained 
 
 By mercenary skill ! 
 Be cool — wlicn of the foemcn's eyes 
 
 The whites you can descry, 
 Take steady aim, each bullet then 
 
 Full fledged with death shall fly. 
 But see, they come ! Make ready, boys, 
 
 Present, now fire !" — A roar 
 Of muskets booms ; our trenches blaze ! 
 
 Incessant volleys pour 
 A storm of death and ruin wild 
 
 Amongst the British ranks ; 
 They pause, they falter, see ! they break 
 
 In centre and both flanks. 
 And now, they rush confused, pell mell, 
 
 Down toward the landing place ! 
 Oh, had you heard our joyous cheers 
 
 As we l)ehcld that race ! 
 
OP BUNKER HILL. 27 
 
 And had you seen the battle ground, 
 
 As dust and smoke gave way ; 
 There many a gallant British heart 
 
 Or dead or wounded lay ! 
 Alas ! it is a fearful sight, 
 
 To view the silent dead, 
 Far from their homes and native skies. 
 
 Stretched on their gory bed ! 
 "What tender ties, what fervid hopes, 
 
 Are rent and blasted here ! 
 What tortures must their fate inflict 
 
 On distant loved ones dear ! 
 Yes, fearful are the pangs that rend 
 
 The tortured soldier's heart. 
 Far from his country doomed to die. 
 
 From loved ones far apart ! 
 No friendly hand to give relief 
 
 Or staunch the streams that flow 
 From mortal wounds, or soothe the grief 
 
 The world can never know ! 
 Oh war ! thou art a fearful scourge. 
 
 And only justified 
 
28 THE BATTLE 
 
 When for our liberties and life 
 
 We call tliee to our side. 
 But rest the blame where blame is due ; 
 
 Yea, on yon tyrant band, 
 That would invoke tliee without cause, 
 
 To desolate our land ! 
 
 But see ! they rally on the plain ; 
 
 Will they the fight renew ? 
 They come ! but slower is their march, 
 
 More circumspect their view ; 
 And when, at length, witli cautious tread, 
 
 They ventured full in sight, 
 Our little band was well prepared 
 
 To re-commence the fight. 
 "My gallant hearts," brave Prescott cries, 
 
 " Receive them as before !" 
 'T is done ! and lo ! their foremost ranks 
 
 Lie weltering in their gore ! 
 As the wild wave breaks on the beach. 
 
 And sadly sobbing dies, 
 
OF BUNKER HILL. 29 
 
 So tlie brave, living wave of men 
 
 Falls prone no more to rise ! 
 As the tall poppies in the field 
 
 Are swept by the mower's might, 
 So the fair forms, in bloom of youth, 
 
 Death swallows from the light! 
 Or, as th' autumnal prairie grass 
 
 Is melted by the blaze. 
 The bristling field of armed men 
 
 Is melted from our gaze ! 
 But, as on ocean's restless breast 
 
 Fresh wave to wave succeeds, 
 Untiring valor still supplies 
 
 The vacant place, and bleeds ; 
 Till galled, at length, they halt, they break, 
 
 And hark ! that bustle's clause ! 
 In fuU retreat they fly confused, 
 
 And stung with many a pang ! 
 'T is hoped these braves have had enougli ; 
 
 Cheer, boys ! the fight is won ! 
 Another cheer ! Kind Heaven will bless 
 
 The work this day begun ! 
 
80 THE BATTLE 
 
 Each liero grasped his comrade's hand, 
 And thus unlo him spoke : 
 
 "Brother, this day our land is free 
 
 From slavery's galling yoke 1 
 I bless the day, I bless the hour, 
 
 When first I saw the light ! 
 I bless the glorious privilege 
 
 Of mingling in this fight ! 
 That here I stand before high Heaven, 
 
 And feel th' ecstatic glow, 
 The boundless raptures of delight 
 
 "Which none but freemen know ! 
 We've learnt our strength ; our cause is won ; 
 
 For never more again 
 Can he who feels the freeman's glow 
 
 Be bound by tyrant's chain ! 
 The slave may bend his neck and live, 
 
 And crawl — but as for me, 
 May death that instant break my bonds 
 
 When cease I to be free !" 
 
OF BUNKER HILL. 31 
 
 Blit Clinton from the Battery 
 
 On Coj^p's Hill viewed this scene — 
 His veterans' defeat and shame — 
 
 And writhed with anguish keen. 
 Full quickly passed he o'er the strait, 
 
 And 'midst his soldiers stood. 
 " Oh, shame upon you !" he exclaimed, 
 
 In fierce and threatening mood, 
 " What ! shall old England hear it said 
 
 That her best veterans fly, 
 Like sheep, before a rebel horde ? 
 
 No, let us rather die ! 
 Wheel, wheel ! myself shall lead you on 
 
 To victory or death I" 
 A cheer was raised ; while quick his sword 
 
 He drew from out its sheath. 
 
 On, on they rush with hasty tread. 
 And vengeance in their eyes ; 
 
 And fierce to their defiant cheers 
 Our musketry replies. 
 
82 THE BATTLE 
 
 Dread was the contlict now, and bloo'd 
 Like streams of water ran ; 
 
 Our men took cool, deliberate aim, 
 And each brouglit down liis man. 
 
 Oh, he alone might paint tliat scene 
 
 Who paints the earthquake's tliroes, 
 The mad tornado's frightful sweep, 
 
 The lava as it flows ! 
 The thundering guns ; the whizzing balls ; 
 
 The combatants' fierce cheers ; 
 The hand-grenades ; the clash of swords ; 
 
 Tlie gleam of pikes and spears ; 
 The strong man's mad, convulsive grasp, 
 
 Struck down in his career ; 
 The dying soldier's hopeless look, 
 
 The stamp of pain and fear ; 
 The mangled limbs that lay all round ; 
 
 Dissevered heads whose eyes 
 Glared fierce in death ; and headless trunk! 
 
 And spouting arteries ; — 
 
OF BUNKER HILL. 83 
 
 Ob, God ! this was a fearful siglit! 
 
 Terrific were these sounds ! 
 It seemed as if the infernal crew 
 
 Had overleapt tlieir bounds, 
 And, bursting hell's domain, usurped, 
 
 With poison-freighted breath, 
 The forms of mortals, for a time, 
 
 And revelled but in death I 
 
 But still the British soldiers fought 
 
 Undaunted as before ; 
 Although our practice thinned their ranks, 
 
 And hundreds bathed in gore. 
 Had not our ammunition failed, 
 
 Not one of all their crew 
 Had e'er returned across the sea 
 
 His native land to view. 
 But when they saw our slackening fire, 
 
 And understood the cause. 
 They rushed at once upon our works, 
 
 Nor longer stood to pause. 
 
84 BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 
 
 With muskets clubbed and rusty swords 
 
 A while we theui withstood ; 
 Till we, at length, were forced to yield 
 
 To their o'erwhuliuing flood. 
 With faces scowling on the foe 
 
 We sullenly withdrew ; 
 So hacked and shattered were their ranks 
 
 They dared not us pursue ; 
 For half their number, on the hill, 
 
 Or dead or wounded lay ; 
 And many a British c])ild unborn 
 
 Shall rue that fiital day ! 
 And when the insolent foe sliall sliglit 
 
 Our courage or our skill. 
 Let this proud answer meet their jeers: 
 
 " Remember Bunker Hill !" 
 
EDMUND BUKKE. 85 
 
 EDMUND BURKE 
 
 IN PARLIAMENT REBUKES THE TORIES WHO DE- 
 FEATED HIS CONCILIATION BILL FOR THE 
 COLONIES. 
 
 So ye would have it ! Be it so ! 
 
 Know ye what ye have done ? 
 Chains have ye forged for your own liinbs ; 
 
 Your tyrant race is run ! 
 The sleeping lion ye have roused, 
 
 The infant giant woke ; 
 And soon you '11 shrink in sore affright, 
 
 Recoiling from his stroke. 
 I see, beyond the western wave, 
 
 A niighty nation rise ; 
 The nurse of freemen, whose fair fame 
 
 Shall pierce the vaulted skies : 
 I see her sails fill every port ; 
 
 And, from these distant isles, 
 Her bosom opens to receive 
 
 Those whom your fear exiles ; 
 
EDMUXD BURKE. 
 
 The good and true of every rank, 
 
 Who scorn to bend the neek, 
 Or bow to idols raised by power, 
 
 Obedient to your beck. 
 Who nobly si^urn the ghostly chains 
 
 Your bigots would impose ; 
 Who trust to Heaven their rightful cause, 
 
 And in its smile repose ; — 
 These with an overwhelming wave 
 
 Will sweep you out of sight ; 
 And bury you and your pretense 
 
 Deep in the gloom of night; 
 So deep, that when geologists 
 
 Or antiquarians keen 
 Shall seek to find some traces left 
 
 Of what you once had been ; 
 Your disembowelled fossils long 
 
 They '11 ponder o'er in vain ; 
 But failing to trace your extinct race, 
 
 Will hurl them back again. 
 The colonists, you say, must ask 
 
 Your leave for breath to live ! 
 
EDMITNT) BURKE. 3*7 
 
 And tax them as ye please, yet still 
 
 They must not wince, but give ! 
 Fools, idiots, puppies, popinjays! 
 
 Where were ye, tell me, where, 
 When yonder hardy colonist 
 
 Was struggling with the bear ? 
 Or when the savage Indian band 
 
 Beset his homeward way, 
 Where were ye then to grant him leave 
 
 To keep the foe at bay ? 
 I see you shrug your shoulders up, 
 
 And fold yom- silken hand. 
 And proudly draw your ermine robe ; 
 
 Can ye not understand? 
 What ! Hear ye not the rising storm ? 
 
 The rumbling thunder's groan ? 
 The mighty wind's tempestuous howl ? 
 
 The ocean's sullen moan ? 
 Enough ! Whom Heaven would overwhelm, 
 
 Heaven renders deaf and blind ; 
 They drift, like wrecks without a helm, 
 
 The sport of waves and wind. 
 
WM. PITT, (LORD CHATHAM,) 
 
 IN REPLY TO THE TORIES' PROPOSITION INSISTING 
 
 THAT THE COLONISTS MUST ADMIT THE RIGHT 
 
 OF BRITAIN TO TAX THEM. 
 
 What novel scheme of tyranny- 
 Is this ye would propose ? 
 Its whispers reached my sickly couch 
 
 From which with pain I rose. 
 To lift my solemn warning voice 
 
 Against the damning deed 
 By which ye doom so many men 
 
 To suffer and to bleed ! 
 For sake of justice, think in time, 
 
 Pause in your mad career ; 
 Nor let your reason yield the reins 
 
 To passion and to fear. 
 The colonists ye mean to tax, 
 
 Without their vote or will : 
 
40 LORD CHATHAM. 
 
 "They are our subjects," ye exclaim; 
 
 " And we shall rule them still !" 
 As far as sovereign j)ower extends, 
 
 I grant the king has right 
 To exercise a just control, 
 
 And rule, if forced, by might; 
 But taxes are a free-will gift ; 
 
 And tyranny alone 
 Can wring them from th' unwilling hand, 
 
 By force of nerve and bone. 
 Besides, these are our countrymen, 
 
 Our kindred flesh and blood ; 
 And are their riglits the less because 
 
 They dwell beyond the flood? 
 Then unto them the golden rule 
 
 Still practice and apply; 
 " Do unto others as ye w^ould 
 
 By others be done by." 
 Their strong resistance wakes your wrath. 
 
 And with a liusky voice. 
 You call them " rebels ;" but for me, 
 
 My lords, I must rejoice ; — 
 
LORD CHATHAM. 41 
 
 Rejoice to think our noble race 
 
 Are free, wherever found ; 
 And that no chains can e'er be forged 
 
 Whereby they may be bound ; 
 'T were sad to see three millions dead 
 
 To Freedom's sacred claim ; 
 Such apathy would stain our blood, 
 
 Our Anglo-Saxon name. 
 Now, in a just an 1 noble cause, 
 
 Oui' power might earth defy ; 
 But in this dark, unjust crusade, 
 
 Our strejigth would wane and die ; 
 For though America should yield. 
 
 Like Samson, she would fall 
 Grasping the pillars of the State, 
 
 And thus o'er whelm us all. 
 
THE BEREAVED FATHER 
 
 BEWAILING HIS MURDERED CHILDREN AT WYOMING. 
 
 My cliildren, oh ! is this the end 
 
 Of all my hopes and fears ? 
 For this my days were spent in toil, 
 
 My nights in sighs and tears ? 
 For this I Ve labored with my hands, 
 
 And plodded with my head ? 
 This harvest of my hopes I reap, 
 
 My children, ye are dead ! 
 Slain by the bloody hand of Brandt 
 
 And his infernal crew; 
 Hounded on to this fell deed, 
 
 John Butler, fiend, by you ! 
 Their gaping womids still pour out blood ; 
 
 With horror glare their eyes ; 
 Revenge, oh God ! give me revenge ! 
 
 Revenge ! each rock replies ! 
 
44 THE BEREAVED FATHER. 
 
 Yes ! by these precious life drops red, 
 
 I swear to listening Heaven, 
 No quarter to the cruel foe 
 
 By me shall e'er be given ; 
 No joy, no comfort, shall I find 
 
 In lile's all-beauteous light. 
 Until John Butler's eyes are sealed 
 
 In everlasting night. 
 And the fell crew, his satellites. 
 
 With Brandt then* chosen head. 
 Shall taste the bitter cup they gave, 
 
 And mincrle with the dead ! 
 
 Oh, lovely vale of Wyoming ! 
 
 Where is thy beauty flown ? 
 This blackened ruin, once my home. 
 
 Is all I call my own ! 
 But oh ! my pearls of greatest price, 
 
 ]VIy pretty prattlers, say. 
 Will you no more your fatlier greet. 
 
 At closing of the day, 
 
THE BEKEAVED FATHER, 45 
 
 With rapid, little twinkling feet, 
 
 And smiles of infant joy; 
 And emulous climb on my knees, 
 
 My darling girl and boy ? 
 No more, no more ! The worm instead 
 
 Shall prey on each fair cheek ; 
 And I heart-broken and forlorn, 
 
 Shall death and danger seek. 
 Beneath yon glorious Stars and Stripes, 
 
 And foremost in the fight, 
 I '11 glut my vengance on the foe, 
 
 Then joyful quit the light. 
 
THE LAJVIENT 
 
 OF THE SON AJfD BROTHER FOR HIS PARENTS ANI) 
 SISTERS SLAIN AT WYOMING. 
 
 My father and my mother with the hatchet they 
 
 have slain, 
 And dragged their bodies through the streets — their 
 
 tears and prayers were vain ; 
 Like wild deer my fair sisters to their chambers 
 
 they pursued, 
 And in theii' innocent, virgin blood their hands they 
 
 have imbrued ! 
 Oh, monsters ! What could urge them thus to mur- 
 der old and young ? 
 They 've slain the mother with the babe that to her 
 
 bosom clung ! 
 They 've scattered death and ruin wild all o'er this 
 
 lovely vale ; 
 More devastating was then* track than earthquake, 
 
 flood or hail ! 
 
48 THE LAMENT. 
 
 Tlio Susquehanna flowing late with pure and tranquil 
 
 flood 
 Now winds its mournful course along tinged with its 
 
 children's blood. 
 Shall I stand here lamenting and inactive while the 
 
 cry 
 Of vengeance rises from this blood — re-echoed 
 
 from the sky ? 
 Forbid it Heaven ! My bm*dened heart shall quench 
 
 its grief and j^ain 
 III one o'erwhelraing wave, revenge! — revenge for 
 
 martyrs slain ! 
 
WASHINGTON 
 
 EENOTmCING HIS ALLEGIANCE TO THE BEITISH 
 ORIGEN" OP AMERICAN EMBLEMS. 
 
 Oh, Britons, from your host of slaves 
 
 And subjects strike my name ! 
 No more in your despotic ranks 
 
 I seek for wealth or fame. 
 I scorn your smiles — I dare your stripes, 
 
 Strip me of house and land ! 
 Beneath yon starry roof of Heaven, 
 
 I then will take my stand. 
 
 Oh, happy thought ! prophetic word ! 
 
 Yes, from this very hour. 
 The STARS and strifes we wiU adopt, 
 
 As emblems of om' power ! 
 The stars to shield us, guide and cheer, 
 
 The stripes to gall our foes ; 
 
 So that mankind this truth may learn ; 
 
 From Heaven our help arose. 
 .5 
 
60 WASHINGTON. 
 
 Sweet Freedom, weary, banished, 
 
 I know not from wliat land, 
 lias lately sought a refuge here. 
 
 On fair Potomac's strand : 
 There found we her in sorrow. 
 
 And she seemed to know us well, 
 And oft would she point to our chains, 
 
 And of our sufferings tell ; 
 Till we, at length, began to feel 
 
 The galling, bitter yoke. 
 And, rising irresistible, 
 
 It from our necks we broke I 
 Then we beheld the Goddess fair 
 
 In new-born beauty rise, 
 And stand in heavenly glory bright, 
 
 Before our wondering eyes. 
 As when of old, at Marathon, 
 
 Or sea-girt Salarais, 
 Before the Greeks she spread her flag. 
 
 And cried : " Look but to this !" 
 So unto us with cheering voice. 
 
 She cried : " Be worthy me, 
 
WASHINGTON. 61 
 
 And for all time to come, as now, 
 
 Ye shall be blest and free; "" 
 
 Free as that glorious Spartan band 
 At famed Thermopylae ; 
 
 Free as in the beam of Heaven, 
 Yon Eagle fans the sky !" 
 
 And as she spoke, the kingly bird 
 
 From seaward hove in sight. 
 " Thus, thus," she cried, "doth Empire's power 
 
 Still westward wing its flight ; 
 This emblem, too, appropriate — 
 
 Let this your banner be. 
 And still may Eagle, Stars and Stripes 
 
 Float proudly o'er the free 1" 
 
MRS. MERRILL, 
 
 THE HEROINE OI' NELSON COUNTY, KENTUCKY. 
 
 " What means that howling of the dogs ?" said 
 
 Merrill to his wife ; 
 "The Indians are upon us ! we must fight for dearest 
 
 life." 
 Scarce had he uttered this, when hark! a shot is 
 
 fii-ed outside ; 
 A bullet aimed too well passed through and struck 
 
 him on the side. 
 " I 'm wounded ! oh, make fast the door !" he sank 
 
 as thus he spoke. 
 She seized an axe and closed the door which soon 
 
 the Indians broke ; 
 Once in possession of the house, with tomahawk in 
 
 hand, 
 How could a lonely female then their fierce assaults 
 
 withstand ? 
 
54 MRS. MERRILL. 
 
 In vain tlicy tried to force their way, since, both in 
 
 thouglit and deed. 
 That heroine could resources wield that served in 
 
 time of need ; 
 For she undaunted, though alone, tlieir violence 
 
 withstood, 
 And gave her thirsty axe to drink abundantly of 
 
 blood. 
 Four of their number by her Imnd fell down to rise 
 
 no more ; 
 The door, the lintels and the walls were smeared 
 
 with brains and gore. 
 Enraged and baffled in their aims, three mounted on 
 
 the roof; 
 Two down the chimney would descend; tlie other 
 
 stood aloof: 
 Just then, her only feather-bed she seized as quick 
 
 as thought. 
 And on the embers flung the mass, which down the 
 
 Indians brought. 
 Half suffocated by the smoke ; and there they help- 
 less lay. 
 
MRS. MERRILL. 65 
 
 Till by her axe they were dispatched on their 
 
 infernal way. 
 The last survivor with a sledge assailed the cabin 
 
 door ; 
 A mighty blow that clove his cheek was followed by 
 
 a roar ; 
 Then, reeling like a drunken man, beside the door 
 
 he fell: 
 Thus seven fierce imps by one weak hand were sent 
 
 express to hell ! 
 
 And did she faint, and did she blanch, when she had 
 
 done the deed ? 
 No ! To her wounded husband next she turned her 
 
 care with speed ; 
 Staunched his life's blood, recalled his strength, and, 
 
 with her soothing voice, 
 Revived his sinking spirits, while she caused him to 
 
 rejoice, 
 By pointing to the ghastly crew, all lifeless on the 
 
 ground : 
 
56 MRS. MERRILL 
 
 " Thus perish all our Country's foes," she cried, 
 " wherever found !" 
 
 Ye women of America, while virtue, valor, fame. 
 Are honored here upon our earth, forget not 
 Merrill's name ! 
 
MISS McCREA, 
 
 MURDERED BY THE INDIANS, 
 
 " Oh, charming lily of the vale, 
 Thy lover bids thee come ; 
 
 Array thee in thy bridal robes, 
 "We come to bear thee home !" 
 
 " And who be ye that I should dress 
 Obedient to your word ?" 
 
 " Oh, we are trusty Indian chiefs ; 
 This proof is from thy lord !" 
 
 They gave to her a written scroll, 
 'T was in a well-known hand : 
 
 " Chiefs, I will dress and go with you 
 Where'er ye may command !" 
 
58 MISS M^CREA. 
 
 Soon from her chamber she came down 
 Robed in her bridal sheen ; 
 
 A lovelier form, a fairer face, 
 No mortal e'er had seen ! 
 
 Her kinsfolk all, with pride and love. 
 
 Gazed on her peerless form ; 
 Tlie Indians' breasts with passion heaved, 
 
 But soon they quelled the storm. 
 
 "Now, I am ready," she exclaimed 
 " Dear friends, adieu, adieu ! 
 The way is short, ere many mouns 
 I come to visit you." 
 
 Out spoke her tender mother first, 
 While on lier neck she hung ; 
 "My daughter, oh, my eldest born, 
 My heart with grief is wrung ! 
 
MISS M*CKEA. 69 
 
 Wilt thou forsake thy childhood's home, 
 
 The ties of kindred break, 
 And trust thyself with savage men, 
 
 All for a stranger's sake ?" 
 
 Her father grasped her by the hand, 
 And tried to hide a tear ; 
 " Wilt thou thy father leave forlorn, 
 My child, my daughter dear ?" 
 
 " This house will be a darksome wild," 
 
 Her little sister cried, 
 " When thou art gone, my sister dear ; 
 
 Then with us still abide." 
 
 Last came her brother ; him she loved 
 
 As dearly as her life ; 
 " And wilt thou leave us, sister dear. 
 To be a Briton's wife ? 
 
60 MISS M*CREA. 
 
 An English soldier bearing arms 
 Against our country's cause ! 
 
 No good can come of such a match ; 
 My sister, turn and pause !" 
 
 But, disregarding all their prayers, 
 Their sighs and scalding tears, 
 
 She yielded to the voice of love, 
 Unmoved by doubts or fears. 
 
 She tore herself from their embrace, 
 
 Nor longer would delay; 
 And drawing near the Indian chiefs, 
 
 She bade them lead the way. 
 
 They led her over hill and dale. 
 Through forest, glen and stream ; 
 
 And though the way was rough, yet hard 
 To her it did not seem. 
 
MISS m'crea. 61 
 
 But now the chiefs, in loud debate, 
 
 Their passions fierce disclose ; 
 From angry words and angry logks 
 
 They almost came to blows. 
 
 The subject of dispute was clear; 
 
 The maiden was the cause ; 
 With agonizing fears she heard 
 
 Their threats — nor long they pause. 
 
 " Oh, Heaven !" she cried, " I see the glare 
 
 Of murder in that eye ! 
 My sands of life are near run out, 
 And here I now must die ! 
 
 My parents, sister, brother, friends, 
 
 To you I bid farewell ; 
 Too late my error I deplore ; 
 
 My pangs no tongue can tell ! 
 
62 MISS m'crea. 
 
 Oh, Britons, you I fondly loved, 
 And for you would have died ; 
 
 And for that soldier in your raidvS 
 Of whom I was ihe bride. 
 
 But noAV too late I see my ci-im-^. 
 And blush for very shame, 
 
 That I should love my country's foe, 
 Forget my country's fame ! 
 
 Oh monsters ! how could you let loose^ 
 
 With tomahawk and brand, 
 These fiends to shed your kindred blood 
 
 And desolate the land? 
 
 Who spare nor age nor sex, but still 
 Pursue, with keen delight, 
 
 The scent of blood, until the earth 
 Is sickened at the sij^ht. 
 
 I 
 
MISS M^CREA. Q^ 
 
 Then cursed forever be the cnuse 
 Whicli such fell means employs ! 
 
 And triumph meet the cause that's just, 
 In freedom's endless joys !" 
 
 'T was thus prophetic spoke the maid, 
 XJnblenched by fear of pain ; 
 
 Assured that her dear fatherland, 
 Ere long, would burst its chain ! 
 
THE OLD MAN ON THE CLIFF. 
 
 A PEOPHECT. 
 
 I Stood upon the lofty rock, deep under me the flood, 
 And let my spirit roam abroad in free and thoughtful 
 
 mood; 
 My vision ranged both far and wide, o'er land and 
 
 sky and sea, 
 No sound of bondage struck my ear, no traces could 
 
 I see. 
 The British flag no longer waved o'er mast, or hill, 
 
 or tower ; 
 The glorious Stars and Stripes waved there, the 
 
 emblems of our power ! 
 My swelling heart was raised to heaven in gratitude 
 
 and love, 
 And wliy, I cried, should paltry cares our inward 
 
 feelings move ? 
 
66 THE OLD MAN 
 
 What private sorrows press the soul, let's drown 
 
 them ill the wave 
 Of pure delight that surges through tlie pulses of 
 
 the brave ! 
 
 I see a ship upon her course, her sails bedewed with 
 
 spray ; 
 ^Free prospering breezes waft her on and through 
 
 her canvass play. 
 A happy voyage, sailors, all welcome and all hail ! 
 Hail to your fieight, hail to your ship, from keel to 
 
 mast and sail ! 
 Through the wild waves you steer your course ; your 
 
 port is right before ; 
 Your banners bear the flowers of peace sprung from 
 
 our heroes' u:ove 1 
 
 It thunders in the distance — is it the sound of fight? 
 Or but the echoes of the waves that I'd^h the shore 
 with mitrht? 
 
ON THE CLIFF. 67 
 
 My heart is stirred within me when I hear that 
 
 thunder tone, 
 But I 'm now too old for battle, yet, thank Heaven, 
 
 I have a son I 
 
I 
 
ADDRESS OF THE GREEKS 
 
 TO THE LOVERS OF THEIR ANTIQUITY AMONG THE 
 MODERN NATIONS OF EUROPE. 
 
 Much have ye written, sung and said, much envied 
 
 and bewailed, 
 Concerning our famed ancestors whose glory ye have 
 
 hailed ; 
 And truly their great fame has passed along from 
 
 age to age, 
 To all the nations of the earth, and filled th' historic 
 
 page ; 
 And he whose heart would glow for worth, for honor 
 
 or for fame. 
 Must from their slumbering ashes draw the sparks 
 
 that fan his flame. 
 
 Why, nations, why are ye so dumb, so sunk in apathy? 
 That spirit which ye have invoked, sprung from the 
 past, stands by! 
 
70 ADDRESS OF THE GREEKS. 
 
 And witli a mingled look of pride and sorrow, 
 
 points his hand — 
 To that famed spot, know ye it not? — tlie ancient 
 
 Grecian land ! 
 
 Those sparks concealed in ashes long wherein ye 
 
 oft have sought, 
 That glow by which alone the soul true freedom has 
 
 been taught; 
 Those latent sparks being duly fanned have burst 
 
 into a blaze ! 
 And yet ye stand inactive all, or shrink with wild 
 
 amaze I 
 Oh shame upon you I is it thus ye trifle with their 
 
 name? 
 Thus have your pointless darts been aimed, thus 
 
 have ye prized their fame ! 
 Too long you dallied with the theme, too much 
 
 you've said and sung. 
 Too far you've wandered from the track; the old at 
 
 length is young ! 
 
ADDRESS OF THE GREEKS. 71 
 
 What heretofore ye distant deemed is now at length 
 
 made near ; 
 It even now knocks at your gate, the sound can ye 
 
 not hear ? 
 Its form appears before your eyes, robed in celestial 
 
 light; 
 Can ye not see it? No, those orbs are dazzled by 
 
 the sicrht ! 
 
 One land there is beyond the flood and near the 
 
 setting sun, — 
 That by Cohnnbus won from niglit, redeemed by 
 
 Washington ; — 
 That glorious land has caught a spark from Free- 
 
 dom'd funeral urn, 
 And kindled up a living flame which ne'er shall 
 
 cease to burn. 
 Her stars and stripes proclaim her power o'er every 
 
 land and sea ; 
 Ye nations, follow in her track, be daring and be 
 
 FREE ! 
 
THE MAID OF CONCORD, 
 
 Rose-trees have I planted 'neatli my window in the 
 
 sun, 
 And they bloom and blossom sweetly, and into my 
 
 chamber run ; 
 And the little birds are singing joyful strains 
 
 amongst theii" leaves. 
 Ye warblers, do ye stay to learn why my sad 
 
 bosom grieves ? 
 Ah ! my lover is departed — gone to join the patriot 
 
 band, 
 Who risk their lives and fortunes for our sacred 
 
 fatlierland; 
 Pray tell him not, ye warblers, that to staunch a 
 
 hero's wound. 
 
 The silken scarf he gave me, from my neck I have 
 unbound ; 
 
74 THE MAID OF CONCORD. 
 
 Nor that my golden ringlets sore neglected long 
 
 have lain ; 
 But tell him that my love for him must ever true 
 
 remain ! 
 
 Still linger on, ye warblers, till my lover fond i-eturn ; 
 Bloom, bloom, ye lovely roses, till at length I cease 
 
 to mourn ; 
 And we, maidens, with the victors join in dance, 
 
 and play, and song. 
 They come, oh joy! But where is he? In vain I 
 
 search the throng ! 
 Alas ! where can I hide my head to shun the 
 
 general joy ? 
 One only warbler stays with me to mourn my 
 
 warrior boy ! 
 
AN ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR. — 1858. 
 
 OLD YEAR. 
 
 Sweet sister mine, with tranquil eye, 
 
 Thrice welcome from yon starry sphere ! 
 Thrice welcome from thy throne on high, 
 
 To watch and guard the rolUng year ! 
 The post I wiUingly resign, 
 
 And, joyful, wing my flight once more, 
 By tliose bright beacon-lights tliat shine, 
 
 To far Eternity's lone shore. 
 
 NEW YEAR. 
 
 Fair sister of the visage pale. 
 
 O'er wbose sad brow a cloud is bung. 
 Whose locks float loosely on the gale, 
 
 Whose accents tremble on thy tongue, 
 Adown whose face the tear-drops flow. 
 
 Oh, say, has sorrow plowed thy cheek ? 
 Oh, say, is earth a scene of woe ? 
 
 In pity, gentle sister, speak ! 
 
76 AN ODE. 
 
 OLD TEAR. 
 
 Not all ! Take comfort; do not weep ! 
 
 Some green spots rise to cheer the ^<ight, 
 Like islands from the oozy deep, 
 
 Or stars that gem the brow of night. 
 1 've seen an Empire burst its chains ; 
 
 Yea, by an Autocrat's decree. 
 Ko Christian land, save one, remains 
 
 By slavei'y cursed : all else are free. 
 
 But that exception ! bitter thought ! 
 
 It makes my eye-balls swell with pain ; 
 My inmost soul with grief is wrought. 
 
 And tears flow down my cheeks like rain. 
 The land where Liberty was born 
 
 And cradled, 'midst war's fearful strife, 
 That land its offspring hath forsworn. 
 
 While Czars and Queens protect her life! 
 
 How different from the days of yore, 
 When mighty moiiarchs strove to crusli 
 
AN ODE. 77 
 
 Her infant struggles in her gore — 
 Her infant cries in death to hush ! 
 
 A host of heroes, clad in mail, 
 
 Like earth-born giants, sprang to life, 
 
 Placed wealth and honor in her scale, 
 And armed themselves for mortal strife 
 
 Then Washington, the great and good, 
 
 Unsheathed his sword in her defense ; 
 Then Henry poured tli' o'erwhelming flood 
 
 Of patriotic eloquence ; 
 Then Jefferson's gigantic mind, 
 
 Which grasped the great Creator's plan, 
 Proclaimed this truth for all mankind : 
 
 Man is not born the slave op man ! 
 
 NEW YEAR. 
 
 'T is sad to think that truths so vast 
 Should now on barren sands be cast ! 
 
78 AN ODE. 
 
 OLD YEAR. 
 
 Hope, sister ! My prophetic view- 
 Can, from the past, the future trace. 
 
 Taught by experience sad, yet true, 
 I augur good for all tlie race. 
 
 Comes strife? Then blood unjustly shed 
 Shall vengeance claim, in thunder tones ; 
 
 But Truth shall triumph ; Justice spread 
 On earth ! Or else, the very stones 
 
 Shall raise a wild, heaven-piercing cry, 
 To plead for right and liberty ! 
 
ITEMS FROM PEKIN (ILL.) 
 
 March, 1859. 
 
 Friend Brisque, you for items are evermore seeking, 
 And you ask me to send you some even from Pekin. 
 What ! are they so scarce in the regions terrestrial 
 That you must have recourse to the empire 
 
 celestial ? 
 If so, I will aid you as far as I 'm able ; 
 I have one or two waiting a chance on my table. 
 But, mum I lest the angels should punish me one 
 
 day, 
 (And two, by the by, sat beside me last Sunday,) 
 For poacljing the nectar ambrosial from Heaven ; 
 If 't is known, I shall scarcely (I fear) be forgiven. 
 
 But now for the items for which you are itching; 
 You'll find them most spicy — nay, almost be- 
 witching. 
 
80 ITEMS FROM TEKIN. 
 
 I see you are smacking ycnir lips ! Not so hasty ; 
 It is no bird's-iiest sou]), no, nor fat-i)uppy pasty; 
 No mess of lob-worms, no pot-de-rats stew, 
 But a delicate, well-seasoned mental ragout. 
 
 What ! much disappointed ! You thought it rich 
 
 food 
 That was duly prepared by some Soyer or Ude. 
 Well, well, you're but mortal; I'd almost o'er- 
 
 looked it, 
 Or else I 'd have altered the dish ere I cooked it ! 
 
 Once more for the items — To envy were sin ; 
 For you know 'tis a Heaven here with us in Pekin. 
 Of hell we know nothing, except by conjecture. 
 Or hints from our eloquent Sawyer, by lecture ; 
 It is true brotlier Rybolt creates a sensation, 
 
 At times, by a peep at the gulf of -, 
 
 And snuifs up tlie air as if sulphur abounded ; 
 And thus brother Loyd hath us sinners confounded. 
 
ITEMS FROM PEKIN. 81 
 
 But yet, we have much consolation withal ; 
 Brother Chapin declares, hell is no where at all! 
 With this last decision I 'd fondly agree ; 
 ('T were a happy conclusion for you and for me ;) 
 Had not our judge Harriot declared his opinion, 
 (And law o'er celestials still holds some dominion,) 
 "A hell may be useful, howe'er ye explain it ; 
 A small one at least — we had better retain it." 
 
 " A small one ! " quoth Haines : " If we keep one 
 
 at all, 
 I very much fear that it cannot be small : 
 For, apart from your Rybolts, your Loyds and your 
 
 Sawyers, 
 It must be of huge size, to make room for the 
 
 lawyers !" 
 
CELESTIALS IN CHICAGO; 
 
 Or, St. Peter on Stump-tail. 
 
 (A newly married couple, hailing from Pekin, (111.,) came to Chicago 
 to spend the honeymoon. What befel them, as related by the bride- 
 groom. Time — WTien John, surnamed the Long, was Mayor of 
 Chicago.) 
 
 Of Chicago you wish me to give you my notion. 
 Well, friends, I comply; though with painful 
 
 emotion. 
 Like JEiieas relating to Dido his story, 
 With a sigh, I now lay my experience before you. 
 
 Chicago 's a place of a wonderful size ; 
 When I saw it, my eyes, how I opened my eyes ! 
 Such very big liouses, big bugs and big women ; 
 And a monstrous horse-pond for a body to swim in ! 
 
84 CELESTIALS IN CHICAGO. 
 
 Astonished my wife gazed long time without 
 
 speaking ; 
 At length she exclaimed, " This is bigger tlian 
 
 Pekin ! 
 Good heart, what a city!" While thus w^e wore 
 
 glowering 
 Around us, with feelings aliri n overpowering 
 A chap, all politeness with bowing and scraping, 
 (If he was not a gentleman, sure he was aping,) 
 Came up, and said he, " You are strangers, I see ; 
 I take such in always, then, pray, come with me I" 
 
 Well pleased with his manners, we followed his 
 
 track ; 
 While kindly he tlirew my big trunk on his back. 
 Which held all our money and clothing so pretty, 
 With which w^e hoped soon to astonish the city. 
 
 We thus jogged along, all unconscious of danger, 
 Till, at length, at a turn, we lost sight of the 
 stranger : 
 
CELESTIALS IN CHICAGO. 85 
 
 Cried my wife, '' Where 's the gentleman gone with 
 
 the plunder ?" 
 Said I, " I sliould like to know that ; and should 
 
 wonder 
 If ever again we clap eyes on his features ; 
 These folks of Chicago are slippery creatures !" 
 And, truly, from that day to this we have sought him, 
 Through the city police, but haTe never yet caught 
 
 him. 
 Can it "be that one John, who is styled "Elongatus," 
 Gives license to porters to rob people gratis ? 
 *' No, no !" you will say, while at this some may 
 
 laugh, 
 '' For John, though so long, is too honest by half!" 
 
 Chicago 's the place — I no longer can doubt it — 
 That St. Peter declared he knew nothing about it; 
 When a siimer who died there once knocked at 
 
 Heaven's gate, 
 And the Saint thundered out, "Friend, I fear you're 
 
 too late ; 
 
86 CELESTIALS IN CHICAGO 
 
 Whence come you? What are yon, and what is 
 
 your name ?" 
 " 1 'm a porter by trade ; from Chicago I came." 
 
 " Chicago ! Chicago !" tlic Saint cried in doubt ; 
 " If there is such a place I will ferret it out." 
 And he looked at the map : " Yes ! yes ! it is here, 
 A very hirge city ; and yet, what is queer — 
 You are the first soul that e'er ventured, from thence 
 To trouble these regions ! Whence comes this, say, 
 whence ?" 
 
 " Look here !" said the porter, " my record 's 
 
 endorsed 
 By a cliampion who never yet has been unhorsed ; 
 Who, mingling with Saints, is a Godly exhorter. 
 And the very best patron of porters and porter ; 
 The ' broth of a boy,' whom all Paddies adore ; 
 And they doubtless will send him to Congress once 
 
 more; 
 A fit representative for such a city, 
 Who by turns can be jovial, or pious, or witty; 
 
CELESTIALS IN CHICAGO. 87 
 
 His name is Long John ; he is down on stump-tail ; 
 If that name has no weight here, sure nought can 
 avail !" 
 
 " What ! a pass from Long John, eh ?"' cried Peter, 
 
 broad grinning ; 
 " Go back whence you came ; 't is the Heaven 
 
 you 've been winning. 
 Stay there till you learn something better than this : 
 You are green if you know not the price of our 
 
 bliss ! 
 It is true that, of old, the poor here might find rest. 
 And the virtuous share in the joys of the blest. 
 Ah ! then e'en the scrape of a pen from Long John 
 Would have taken ten souls, worse than tliine, out 
 
 of pawn ; 
 But NOW 't is TIN only that opens this gate ; 
 Like old fashions, the virtues are here out of date. 
 Take a peep through this chink at our banqueting 
 
 haU; 
 The keenest of shavers there lord it o'er all. 
 
88 CELESTIALS IN CHICAGO. 
 
 Tlie men of your city draw line on tlie stroj) ; 
 Your town is known here as ' the great shaving 
 
 sliop.' 
 Your preachers may prate about love tliere below ; 
 The love of the dollar is here ' all the go.' 
 Then, if you 'd partake of our bliss, ('t is no 
 
 gammon,) 
 Bring a check for the gold on Emmanuel, Irom 
 
 SCAMMON.'- 
 
 " Oh, if that be the case," said our friend, with a 
 
 smile, 
 " I, too, have shaved some, and have made up my pile, 
 By shaving from trunks, in the way of my trade ; 
 Although, to confess, I was sorely afraid ; 
 For, down in our town, we were constantly told. 
 That none could j^ass through your strait gnte with 
 
 his gold. 
 But they lied, I perceive, and rejoice it is so ; 
 Here 's a check for the gold ; 't is from Scammon 
 
 and Co." 
 
CELESTIALS IX CHICAGO. 89 
 
 The Saint stood bewildered, delighted, amazed ; 
 While long on the porter in silence he gazed. 
 At lengtli, he found breath, and accosted him thus : 
 "Are you sure, 'tis no joke that you put upon us ?" 
 " Cock sure !" said the porter, while Peter he eyed 
 With a look of insulted professional pride. 
 
 Then Peter exclaimed, over-brimming with joy ; 
 
 ** By my soul, you 're a ' brick ;' you 're the * broth of 
 
 a boy ;' 
 A jolly good fellow ! But how did it come, 
 That you cheated the priests and the lawyers at 
 
 home ? 
 Got away from their grasp with such treasure in 
 
 store ? 
 Such a case, to my knowledge, ne'er happened 
 
 before !" 
 
 *'0h! of this," said the porter, "we'll talk by 
 
 and by. 
 O'er a good bowl of punch — smoking hot — of old 
 
 rye: 
 
90 CELESTIALS IN CHICAGO. 
 
 At present, suffice it to say, all is right ! 
 Let me pass to the music, the d;ince and the liglit, 
 Taking clnmce in the crowd if there turns up a 
 fight!" 
 
 The Saint seized his hand and exclaimed, with a 
 
 grin, 
 "I mistook you: excuse me! Dear friend, pray, 
 
 walk in !" 
 
THE PRAISE OF LIBERTY 
 
 A visi02^r. 
 
 Written in 1856. 
 
 A baleful cloud o'erspread the skies of late, 
 Surcharged with sulphurous vapors — big with fate, 
 Which filled men's souls with horror and affright; 
 Freedom herself was sickened at the sisrht ! 
 
 I saw the despots of the earth rejoice 
 Whilst forging chains. I heard the bigot's voice 
 Exultingly exclaim : " Where now thy power, 
 Democracy '? Behold thy fated hour ! 
 Thy votaries no more shall trust in thee ; 
 Slaves of a phantom, how can they be free? 
 Where now is Liberty, thy idol, flown ? 
 Go, seek her in the land of Washington 1 
 Thy search how vain !" 
 
92 TUE TRAISE OP LIBERTY. 
 
 The scone was palled in gloom, 
 And anarchy announced our country's doom; 
 Confusion reigned — the din of war arose, 
 And brotliers stood opposed — most deadly foes; 
 Blood flowed in torrents ; pestilence ensued ; 
 And famine raged with all her hoirid brood. 
 Still darker grew the storm, more fierce its roar, 
 Until its thunders swept from shore to shore. 
 
 At length, a gleam of light burst on my eyes ; 
 The cloud had vanished from tlie smiling skies. 
 Fair Freedom showed once more her roseate face, 
 Where all her hopes and feelings I could trace. 
 Thy sun, oh Liberty, with radiance shone; 
 The tyi'ant trembled on his baseless throne. 
 Around, the landscape smiled in native green; 
 And joy illumined all the peaceful scene ! 
 
 As young Alcides, in the dawn of life, 
 
 Slew two huge serpeiits sent by Jove's proud wife, 
 
THE TEAISE OF LIBERTY. 93 
 
 Jealous of the young hero's future fiime ; 
 So thou, fair Liberty, a nobler name. 
 Heaven-born like him, but of a desthiy 
 More durinoj and more crlorious than he. 
 Hast slain two reptiles sent by foreign foes. 
 More envious of thy greatness and repose 
 Than Juno of the Theban Hercules, 
 Rebellion and Disunion hight were these. 
 
 The monsters raised their slimy heads and crept 
 
 Around her chamber, while the Goddess slept, 
 
 Kot dreaming that infernal fiends should dare 
 
 To breathe with her the same supernal air; 
 
 Filling the weak and timid with alarm, 
 
 They crawled about, in gloom, concocting harm. 
 
 And deeming the young damsel too supine 
 
 To crush their treason, though she were divine; 
 
 Till plumed by long impunity they spring 
 
 Sheer on her couch, each armed with deadly sting. 
 
 Their hissing roused the sleeper from her bed ; 
 Her hireling menials, struck with terror, fled; 
 
94 THE PRAISE OF LIBERTY. 
 
 (Fit emblems of false friends, who slink away 
 When cloiids obscure prosperity's fair day.) 
 Not so the heroine ! Up she quickly sprung, 
 Strong in her God-like nature, though so young; 
 The neck of either mischief prompt to clasp 
 She choked each struggling hydra in her grasp ; 
 Unveik'd the mystery of their horrid spell, 
 And drove the demons to their native hell ! 
 
 Oh, noble. Godlike, sacred Liberty ! 
 Whence shall I cull a chaplet worthy thee? 
 Thee from what treasures shall my spirit bless ? 
 How my full heart its gratitude express? 
 Since thou hast crushed thy country's enemies. 
 All deem thee worthy of thy native skies ; 
 The nations from af ir shall sound thy fame ; 
 And distant ages shall thy praise proclaim ; 
 The oppressed in every dime shall raise their eyes, 
 Radiant with hope, to thy unclouded skies ! 
 And souls that thirst for freedom lonsf denied 
 Shall qualf thy streams and shall be satislied! 
 
THE PRAISE OF LIBERTY. 95 
 
 Boldly hast thou proclahned this glorious truth 
 Unfading as the Heavens' eternal youth ; 
 That in America, the favored land 
 Of liberty, the despot shall not stand ; 
 The bigot shall not plant the Upas tree ; 
 That here — to worship God — the soul is free !_ 
 And that the common accident of birth 
 Must here give place to virtue and to worth. 
 
 Oh, ye who value Freedom's hallowed name, 
 
 Immunity from anarchy and shame, 
 
 Ye friends of order, wheresoe'er ye be, 
 
 Who prize " Unsullied homes and altars free ;" 
 
 Who love to see fair commerce spread the sail ; 
 
 And liberal arts o'er all the land prevail ; 
 
 And peace and plenty reign with boundless sway ; 
 
 Would ye enjoy these treasures, — then obey — 
 
 Obey the laws by which all-bounteous Heaven 
 
 The choicest blessings to this land h:itli given ; 
 
 And rally now, with one accord, around 
 
 Yon glorious standard fixed in Freedom's ground. 
 
96 TUE PRAISE OF LIBERTY. 
 
 Let North and South unite, with one acclaim, 
 To hail our standard-bearer's honored name ; 
 And cry, from Maine to California's shore, 
 "Tlie Union now — the Union evermoi'c !" 
 
THE FUGITIVE. 
 
 Insceibed to Owen Love joy, 1860. 
 
 Dark and drear was the night, saving when the red 
 
 moon 
 Peeped at times through huge masses of laboring 
 
 clouds ; 
 But such moments were brief, for the heavens were 
 
 soon , 
 Enveloped once more in funereal shrouds. 
 
 And now from the regions around the bleak South, 
 Where night's gloomy curtain more darkly was 
 
 thrown, 
 Streams of lightning in rapid succession burst forth, 
 And hollow the far distant thunder-clouds groan. 
 
98 THE FUGITIVE. 
 
 But quick and more qnick gleams the liglitning's red 
 
 flash ; 
 And near and more near peals the thunder's loud 
 
 roar ; 
 And hark ! 't is the thunderbolt's terrible crash, 
 And earth heaves and trembles from mountain to 
 
 shore 
 
 As troubled my eye swept along the wild sky, 
 Wrought to madness extreme by the elements' strife, 
 Midst the hoarse peals of thunder I heard a weak 
 
 cry 
 As of one who lamented the sorrows of life. 
 
 'T was a poor son of Africa, friendless, forlorn ; 
 The salt tears abundant his dark cheek bedewed ; 
 His locks in despair from his bare head were torn ; 
 And the ground all around with those drenched 
 locks was strewed. 
 
THE FUGITIVE. 99 
 
 And he cried, " Oh, ye heavens enveloped in flame; 
 Ye clouds that your torrents pour down on my head ; 
 Rage on in your fury ! Your pity I claim: 
 Let me here by your grace find my last earthly bed. 
 
 For weary my feet have all night paced the street ; 
 And though hard is the brunt of the storm to be 
 
 borne, 
 No kind glance can I meet, I can find no retreat, 
 To soothe the sad soul of poor Zampi forlorn. 
 
 Behold ! how these white men in dwellings of pride. 
 On their soft, downy beds, sleep secure from the rain; 
 While I, the poor stranger,- outside must abide. 
 In hunger and pain ; seeking death but in vain. 
 
 Some feast in their halls, and some revel and sing ; 
 Some dance to the music of timbrel and drum ; 
 
100 THE FUGITIVE. 
 
 Whilst to me, wretched tiling, borne on memory's 
 
 Avin-, 
 Their joy brings a sting while I think of my home. 
 
 In those sweet days of yore, when on Africa's shore, 
 I danced on the green with the young and the gay ; 
 Oh ! then I was blest — I shall be so no more ! 
 Oh, then I was free and as happy as they ! 
 
 No wretched and poor have been spm-ned from my 
 
 door ; 
 Nor left to lament in the storm and the cold. 
 They have slept on the very best mat on my floor; 
 For theii' feast I have told the best lamb of my fold. 
 
 "May the curse of the blighted — !" " Oh, holdl" 
 
 I exclaimed ; 
 " Son of Africa, curse not the land of the free, 
 
THE FUGITIVE. 101 
 
 We may well feel ashamed that, though Freedom 's 
 
 proclauned 
 For all others, here pity alone is for thee." 
 
 I stretched out my hand — the j)oor African smiled 
 'Midst his tears, as he kissed it with grateful delight ; 
 " From the storm raging wild, injured Africa's child, 
 I will find thee a shelter, and supper to-night !" 
 
 'Midst the torrents of rahi and the tempest's wild 
 
 roar. 
 We arrived at a door dear to man and to Heaven ; 
 Where a refuge is sought — not in vain — by the 
 
 poor ; 
 And where to the fugitive welcome is given ! 
 
 It is thine, Owen Lovejoy ! and thine are the 
 
 deeds. 
 Thee alone of the throng I invoke to my song. 
 Which, wed to thy name, through all time that 
 
 succeeds. 
 On the bright wings of fame shall be wafted along. 
 
102 THE FUGITIVE. 
 
 Yes, wafted on hi^li, lionored Lincoln, with thine, 
 The purest of stars in that gahixy bright. 
 Which, V ith k)ve siiperhiunan and justice divine, 
 Shall restore a lost race to humanity's light. 
 
 Behold I this poor African blessed by your care, 
 Falls prone in the dust to the Being unknown ; 
 And for you, in the fervor of true grateful prayer, 
 Invokes all the blessings that flow from his throne. 
 
 He exclaims : " Thou Great Spirit that rulest on 
 
 high ; 
 Dread form that dost ride on the whirlwind and 
 
 storm ; 
 When thou shakest the earth, and the sea, and the 
 
 sky, 
 In thy mercy, s^iare those who thy mercy perform!" 
 
THANKSGIVING DAY. 
 
 1859. 
 
 " My barns are full !" the rich man cries ; 
 Whilst with his wealth he feasts his eyes, 
 "My stores o'erflow with wine and oil; 
 Henceforth my life is won from toil. 
 My soul, enjoy these blessings given, 
 This day we owe our thanks to Heaven." 
 
 Oh, sordid soul ! canst thou not see, 
 Heaven has no answering smile for thee ? 
 Think, think, perhaps this very night, 
 To distant realriis thou take thy flight. 
 And then for thee life's sweets are flown ; 
 Thyself left naked and alone ! 
 
 What sounds shall then assail thine ear? 
 Sounds tit for fiends alone to hear ; 
 
104 THANKSGIVING DAY. 
 
 Groans of the wretched, suffering poor, 
 Spurned by base menials from tliy door ; 
 Or cries of orphans wlioni thine hand 
 Despoiled, perhaps, of home and land ; 
 Or sighs of widows in despair, 
 Bewailing, to the chill, damp air, 
 Those blessings which thine avarice 
 Diverted to thy private use. 
 
 Or if tliou hast been high and great, 
 Tiiou bearest the thunders of the State 
 Lamenting, with a face confused. 
 That conHdence thou hast abused; 
 And cursing her ungrateful son 
 Who wounds the breast he feeds upon. 
 
 Or, haply, thou hast money lent. 
 Sucking men's blood by cent, per cent.; 
 Regardless of a brother's pain, 
 Provided thou mayest reap the gain. 
 Oh, think what tortures shall a-sail 
 The usurer's soul ; then, monster, (piail ! 
 
THANKSGIVING DAT. 105 
 
 Thy thanks are due to Heaven, dost say? 
 Why 23ay them, then, tlie other way? 
 
 Oh, Father, let my grateful heart 
 
 To thee its earnest wish impart ; 
 
 For every blesshig held in store 
 
 Let me be thankful evermore; 
 
 For health, for peace, for liberty. 
 
 But chief for honest poverty ; 
 
 A conscience free from guilty stain 
 
 Of ill-got riches, false as vain. 
 
 And may I ever count it loss 
 
 To squander precious time for dross ; 
 
 Or, baser still, in sordid play, 
 
 With men who shun the light of day; 
 
 Who quaff the maddening draught until 
 
 Their souls have lost all sense and \^all; 
 
 And their proud spirits, once so free, 
 
 Are chained in hopeless slavery ! 
 
 Father, preserve both me and mine 
 
 From such a curse, by power divine ! 
 
106 THANKSGIVING DAT. 
 
 But, rather, lot my life be spent 
 Amassing wealth that brings content ; 
 Pure wisdom from the ancient sages 
 ^Yho lived in distant lands and ages ; 
 Whose lore, than honey far more sweet, 
 Food for th' immortal soul is meet ; 
 Philosophers and bards of old, 
 Whose precepts shine like purest gold. 
 Or let me woo the modest muse, 
 Whose charms the grovelling mass abuse ; 
 Or trace the laws by which the spheres 
 Pour harmony on mortal ears. 
 Or, I those arts would learn to prize 
 Which charm, adorn and humanize. 
 But, chiefly, let my footsteps trace 
 Those scenes where sorrow veils her face; 
 And smooth the ruffle<l brow of care; 
 Misfortune's wrecks help to repair ; 
 And learn, how blest it is to give, 
 Yea, far more blest than to receive! 
 
AN AMERICAN SUNSET 
 
 1860. 
 
 "Parting day 
 Dies like the dolphin."— Btron. 
 
 Oft have I sat hardby the soimding sea, 
 
 In those green isles which good Victoria rules, 
 
 And gazed with admiration on the sun 
 
 Bathing his golden tresses in the brine, 
 
 And flooding the sea and sky with rosy light. 
 
 Those scenes were beautiful, and filled my soul 
 
 Then fresh and hopeful from the hand of God, 
 
 With joys supreme, delights unspeakable ! 
 
 But never have I seen, nor yet conceived, 
 
 In all my wild imaginings of beauty, 
 
 A scene more lovely, gorgeous or sublime 
 
 Than that which met my wondering gaze last night. 
 
 Here in this Western world, fair Illinois, 
 
 The youthful prairie State ; ruled by no queen 
 
108 AN AMERICAN SUNSET. 
 
 Nor potentate ; but by her noble sons 
 
 And queenly daughters ; she herself a queen I 
 
 Oil glorious land ! Where else occurs a scene 
 Of such surpassing loveliness ? The sun 
 Had sunk behind the sombre Western woods, 
 All save a golden crescent of his orb ; 
 The clouds around him piled in various shapes 
 Of towers and battlements, were lighted up 
 With gemlike rays, all blended and combined 
 With such consummate skill, no artist's hand 
 Would dare to emulate. And then th' expanse 
 Of bright, ethereal sky that stretched betAveen, 
 With etery color tinged, displayed rich vales 
 As if of Ceres lipening in the sun ; 
 Rich, golden tints with green and orange blent. 
 Which melted into seas of azure hue. 
 Studded with islands of celestial light; 
 Recalling to the soul those blissful days. 
 Or past or future, (for they are the same,) 
 When through Elysian fields it roamed at large, 
 
AN AMERICAN SUNSET. 109 
 
 And wliere forever it will freely roam ; 
 
 When passed the bridge connecting the two worlds; 
 
 The bridge of human Hfe ; the golden link 
 
 That binds the j^ast and future evermore. 
 
 See in the East, the mass of purple clouds 
 
 Reflects the glories of the setting sun ; 
 
 And on tlieir brow, behold the bow of God 
 
 Is set in all its glory ! What a scene ! 
 
 Oh life, oh light, oh heaven and earth and sky ! 
 
 Why should we pine at fate, or pain or grief? 
 
 Why shrink at poverty and the cold glance 
 
 Of man, our happier brother here below ? 
 
 Or court his smile, or dread his wrathful frown ? 
 
 Since through fair Nature's charms we can commune 
 
 With the great Architect ; and claim a share 
 
 In the inheritance of a Father's love ; 
 
 Rest in full confidence upon his arm ; 
 
 Bask in the sunshine of his countenance; 
 
 And thence imbibe a balm for every woe 
 
NEW YEAR'S GREETING FOR 1861. 
 The Noetii and South Meet. 
 
 SOUTH. 
 
 Good morning, friend North, and a4iappy new year ! 
 
 What news and what hopes do you bring ? 
 
 Instead of rejoicing, we've reason, I fear, 
 
 To lament the approach of the spring ; 
 
 No longer united our people now stand. 
 
 With brotherly love as before ; 
 
 But in hostile array from far Maine's rocky strand 
 
 To famed California's gold shore. 
 
 Let us reason together, in hopes to avert 
 
 Those feelings that only can lead to our hurt. 
 
 NORTH. 
 
 'T is true, brother South, we no longer can boast 
 Of a Union, the hope of the world. 
 
112 NEW year\s greeting. 
 
 Wherever by mountain, or river or coast, 
 
 Our Stars and our Stripes were unfurled. 
 
 From the stormy Cape Horn to the shores of Japan, 
 
 Fi-om the gulf to the isles of the sea, 
 
 Man bowed to the triumph and glory of man. 
 
 And exclaimed " 'T is the flag of the free !" 
 
 But now it is rent — though by no foreign foe ; 
 
 The sons of fair Freedom have dealt her the blow ! 
 
 SOUTH. 
 
 Yes ! Lincoln, the rail-s])litter, he did the deed ; 
 
 (That name was not given in vain,) 
 
 For the Union he split, and our country must bleed, 
 
 And we bear the brunt and tlie stain. 
 
 And I must say, friend North, that you, too, lent 
 
 your aid 
 And encouraged that venomous plan 
 By which old John l^rown made that terrible raid, 
 To murder us all to a man. 
 
 By means of our slaves, whom he meant to let loose ; 
 Now, North, is this right? Have you any excuse? 
 
NEW year's greeting. 113 
 
 NORTH. 
 
 Just liear me, friend Soiitli, although recrimination 
 
 I hate, for it cannot do good ; 
 
 Yet still, in the spirit of conciliation, 
 
 I would avert battle and blood ; 
 
 You blame "honest Abe," when, in truth, all the 
 
 blame 
 Will be found to rest at your own door ; 
 Not content with digesting, in silence, your shame, 
 You must vaunt it the Nations before ; 
 And sully my fame dragged along witli your own, 
 When you know both your crime and your shame I 
 
 disown ! 
 
 SOUTH. 
 
 What ! this to my face ? What ! a shame and a 
 
 crime ! 
 
 Dare you thus name our famed institution, 
 
 So hallowed by Scripture, prescription and time? 
 
 Is this, then, the final solution? 
 10 
 
114 NEW year's greeting. 
 
 Is this, then, the only concession you make 
 
 To avert all the horrors of strife ? 
 
 If so, from this garment defiance I shake ; 
 
 And my cludlonge is, "War to the knife !" 
 
 Let slip all your bloodliounds ; you 'U fiud me 
 
 prepared ; 
 My arm is equipped and my bosom is bared. 
 
 NORTH. 
 
 Well, South, be it so ; you may strike, but first hear; 
 
 If love, then the Union, is flown ; 
 
 Mere parclnnent is nothing, love only is dear, 
 
 And duly remains to be done : 
 
 Wherever tliat leads, I, for one, will pursue. 
 
 Regardless of what may befall; 
 
 To God and my country my service is due ; 
 
 I will follow wherever tliey cnll. 
 
 But still I respect our relations in life, 
 
 If we cannot unite, let us part without strife. 
 
NEW year's gkeeting. 115 
 
 We are brothers and kinsmen ; and why should we 
 
 steep 
 Our hands in each other's heart's blood ? 
 Or why leave our widows and orphans to weep ; 
 And our homes with destruction o'erflood ? 
 Are the evils of hfe too infrequent and few, 
 That our hands must still add to their sum? 
 Are the last debts of nature so long overdue, 
 That our acts must invite them to come ? 
 Oh pause, brother, pause in your frenzied career ; 
 The world gazes on us in silence and fear ! 
 
 SOUTH. 
 
 Why insult to injury add, brother North, 
 
 Why thus sugar-coat the deep wrong ? 
 
 And why try to sully our honor and worth, 
 
 Because you presume you are strong ? 
 
 From their masters you spirit our servants away, 
 
 Or if they escape from our land, 
 
 Despite of your compact, you tin-ow in delay 
 
 To restore them ; or justice withstand. 
 
116 Nicw year's gheeting. 
 
 Do you think a brave, cliivalrous people can yield 
 To such wrongs and sucli insults, and not take tlie 
 field ? 
 
 NORTH. 
 
 We men of the North liave long since washed our 
 
 hands 
 Of the stain and the crime and the cui-se 
 That slavery bnngs. Shall we heed your commands, 
 Though our friends, to do this and still worse ? 
 To pander to passions we hate and despise, 
 By becoming jackalls to catch slaves 
 For wolves and for tigers in human disguise ? 
 Think you, we are such servile knaves ? 
 If this be the cau§>e that inflames you to fight, 
 Come on, and let God now decide for the right ! 
 
 What, silent and pale ! Brother South, can it be 
 
 That your courage already is flown ? 
 
 A Pi'yor engagement, no doubt, you now see, 
 
NEW year's greeting. 117 
 
 And the field of the Potter disown ; 
 
 Well, well! you are prudent. The North may be 
 
 duped, 
 As he has been, but will not " be dared !" 
 His bo-wde knife many a wame has out-scooped 
 And many a bosom, though "bared," 
 So, fire-eating South, let me bid you good-bye : 
 Your courage is great, but we '11 make your wool fly ! 
 
ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR, 
 
 1862. 
 
 I tuned my harp to sing the passing year, 
 
 And greet the coming one with joyous strain; 
 
 But ah ! its tones fell dead upon mine ear ; 
 My efforts to awake them were in vain. 
 
 They slept in silence many a night and day, 
 Until the waning year drew nigh its close ; 
 
 Then, as its last sad moments rolled away, 
 Strange, weird music from my lyre arose. 
 
 Two forms of heavenly mold — both fliir and young, 
 (One wreathed in smiles, and one in tears, I noted,) 
 
 Alternate woke the lay : — The words they sung 
 I seized, as on the midnight air they floated. 
 
120 ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 SriRIT OF THE OLD YEAR. 
 
 Fresh from tlie C(Kirts of Ile.-iven, my sister fair, 
 111 yoiitliful beauty and consummate grace, 
 
 To thee I yield tliis post of anxious care ; 
 Assume the task and nol)ly lill the phice. 
 
 SPIRIT OF THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 Why hangs that cloud upon my sister's brow, 
 
 Where all was sweet and tranquil when we parted ? 
 
 How changed in form, in look, in gesture now ! 
 Tears in thine eyes, thou seem'st nigh broken- 
 hearted. 
 
 SPIRIT OF THE OLD YEAR. 
 
 Alas ! dear sister, why must I relate 
 
 The scenes of horror I have witnessed here ? 
 
 Or why did Heaven impose on me the fate 
 
 To guide, in times so dread, this mundane si)here ? 
 
 I 
 
ODE FOR THE NEW YEAK. 121 
 
 My sisters fair who ruled tlie bygone years, 
 
 How man progressed on earth, would oft unfold ; 
 
 And we, the spirits born to guard the spheres, 
 Exulted in the tidmgs which they told. 
 
 They said that light and darkness there contended 
 For mastery, and that the light prevailed ; 
 
 That cruelty on earth was almost ended. 
 
 And despots in their fiendish schemes had failed ; 
 
 That truth and justice were diffused abroad ; 
 
 But chiefly in the Land of Liberty, 
 Where charity, the noblest child of God, 
 
 Would triumph soon and set the captive free. 
 
 But lately I have marked a deepening shade 
 
 Of gloom and sorrow on the brow of all; 
 
 Their hopes greAV dim, their joys began to fade, 
 
 And horrors seemed their inmost souls to palL 
 11 
 
122 ' ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 With dark forebodings I assumed my task, 
 
 A year agone ; my fears were too well founded ; 
 
 Rebellion then had thi'own aside the mask 
 
 And stood revealed with all liis fiends surrounded. 
 
 A horrid monster, dismal, dark, deformed ; 
 
 Drunk with much prosperity and crime : 
 With frenzied eye and iron tongue he stormed ; 
 
 His mouth all fire and foam, his beard all slime. 
 
 He grasped a dagger in his felon hand, 
 
 And while his loving mother took her rest, 
 
 And her false guardian slumbered in the land, 
 He sought to plunge it in her tender breast. 
 
 And when the Almighty Ruler turned aside 
 
 The dastard blow ; the monster aimed his dart 
 
 Against her sons, and dragged her flag of pride 
 Soiled in the dust, thus wounding many a heart. 
 
ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR. 123 
 
 Then Lincoln, raised by Ileav^en to save the State, 
 Good, honest Abe — the second Washington — 
 
 Stood up undaunted, bold, sublimely great. 
 
 And, to avenge the mother, called each noble son. 
 
 They came obedient to the patriot's call, 
 A mighty host disdaining fear or dread, 
 
 To cheer the loyal, rebels to appall ; 
 
 The solid earth groaned 'neath their ponderous 
 tread. 
 
 Their mustering might be likened to the hum 
 Of myriad pigeons in the autumnal sky. 
 
 Heard in the distance ; till, at length, they come, 
 With thundering wings, and rush impetuous by. 
 
 Then, with the cataract's tremendous roar. 
 And with the raging, tempest's awful force, 
 
 Which hurls the howling billows on the shore, 
 Our hosts sweep on in their resistless course. 
 
124 ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 On, on tliey sweep by myriads, each brave band 
 Lc'il ])y a dauntless chief; as Ellsworth brave; 
 
 As Lyon bold ; as Baker brilliant, grand ; 
 (These, like Bielaski, found a hero's grave.) 
 
 And to rebellion cowardly and base, 
 
 Safe only in his strongholds, they present 
 
 A wall of fire imi^ervious in each place ; 
 
 To curb his madness seems their sole intent. 
 
 But Britain, jealous of the Nation's fame, 
 And envious of her overshadowing glory, 
 
 Seeks every pretext to asj^erse her name. 
 
 And 'rase her record from th j world's great story. 
 
 How vain the effort! For that Babylon, 
 That second Carthage steeped in jDerfidy, 
 
 Is doomed to fall before this youthful Rome ; 
 And as licr crimes, so great her fall shall be. 
 
ODE FOR THE NEW YEAU. 125 
 
 But thou, sweet sister, say, what tidings good 
 
 Dost thou to man from Heaven's bright portals 
 bring ? 
 
 Thy smile celestial and benignant mood 
 Bespeak thee Herald of the Eternal King. 
 
 SPIRIT OF THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 To know the future rests with God above ; 
 
 Nor if I knew it dared I it impart. 
 Nor would it profit man. That heaven is love 
 
 Is truest science to the faithful heart. 
 
 Let Nature teach him. As this ambient air, 
 Impregned with vapors, must be purified ; 
 
 So man estranged from God by sin and care, 
 By tribulations must be sorely tried. 
 
 The storms of ocean keep its waters sweet ; 
 
 The earthquake saves the earth from latent fii'e ; 
 The hostile clouds in fearful conflict meet, 
 
 But yet their thunders in repose expire. 
 
12G ODE FOR THE NEW YEAR. 
 
 Tlic cpidoinio which assails the young, 
 Tlie burning fever preying on man's life, 
 
 Are sent the constitution to make strong. 
 And to prepare it for a nobler strife. 
 
 And so of nations. God has called this forth 
 To serve some purpose, some most glorious end 
 
 Of liberty to teach mankind the worth — 
 And human freedom everywhere extend. 
 
 And since corruption gathers in its veins. 
 
 Chokes its young heart, impedes its free-drawn 
 breath, 
 
 He sends his messengers to cleanse the stains. 
 
 And save the loved one from the threatened death. 
 
 When the corruptionists are swept away. 
 Whatever name or foim they may assume ; 
 
 When selfish politicians cease to sway, 
 
 Anil virtue's sun shines through the dark simoom; 
 
ODE FOR THE NEW YEAE. 12*7 
 
 When man shall act religion's great command, 
 Love to his God and justice to his brother ; 
 
 As each before Jehovah's throne would stand, 
 So each be friend and neighbor to the other. 
 
 Then may the people hope for peace and rest, 
 Nor longer suffer from the avenging rod ; 
 
 Then shall the nation be supremely blest, 
 
 And bask in sunshine, the sweet smile of God. 
 
 'T was thus they sung until their heavenly voices 
 Were blended with the tones of earth's sweet bells. 
 
 Which raised to listening seraphs grateful noises, 
 Whose anthem through the great cathedral swells. 
 
 Their words sank deep into my heart's recesses ; 
 
 Oh, may they yours with heavenly grace impress. 
 To love your brother, soothe his deep distresses ; 
 
 Serve God and country more, love self the less. 
 
NEW YEAR'S ADDRESS. 
 
 1862. 
 
 With a Happy l^ew Year, friends, once more I 
 
 would greet you, 
 And say, I am always delighted to meet you ; 
 To hold pleasant converse and gossip together — 
 Talk of politics, markets, the war and the weather ; 
 And learn from then- signs our fi-ail life-boat to steer ; 
 From experience draw wisdom and virtue each year ; 
 Till prepared for the future, nor fearing the past, 
 An endless New Year shall burst on us at last, 
 Beyond all the changes and chances of time ; 
 Where cold' nor fierce heat mars the heavenly clime ; 
 Where Spring reigns eternal and bright roses blow, 
 And the rivers of Eden with nectar o'erflow; 
 Where angels sweet music still pour on the air, 
 And all things renewed are celestial and fau' ! 
 
130 NEW year's address. 
 
 Like the chorus of Greece, sounding solemn, sublime, 
 Teaching wisdom and wit with a chant or a chime, 
 The Carrier's Address makes you wise as you smile, 
 For it sparkles with w^it and with liumor the while; 
 Condensing past scenes to a span, to rehearse 
 Their essence in brief and embalm tliem in verse; 
 Till a favorite grown, nay, a fixed institution. 
 It purports to give you a happy solution 
 Of problems by statesmen and jurists propounded ; 
 The ' whys ' and the ' wherefores ' on which they are 
 
 grounded ; 
 The rocks on which candidates' barges are stranded ; 
 How panics have left many folks emi)ty-handed ; 
 And why, though our garners with plenty are fraught, 
 Tlie cup from our lips is dashed quicker th.an 
 
 thought; 
 And why our brave troops, when well clothed and 
 
 well fed, 
 Have failed of success, through defects of the Head : 
 The Carrier w^ll tell you all this for a quaktek, 
 Which is cheap, very cheap, for so great an 
 
 exhorter ; 
 
131 
 
 Although on the quarter he lays little stress, 
 Some folks that are poor may be suited for less ; 
 Nor would he much grumble, (rich friends, do not 
 
 laugh,) 
 If, instead of a quarter, you hand him a half ! 
 
 Well, now for the message of which I have spoken, 
 In which you will find of his wisdom this token : 
 That, in order to lighten the gen'ral distress. 
 He presents to your view this, his animal address. 
 Replete with those maxims by which, duly followed, 
 Your cares and your sorrows will surely be swal- 
 lowed 
 In perfect oblivion of war and disaster, 
 A plaster for broken hopes, yet no shinplaster! 
 
 " Come, quick with your nostrum !" you cry, in 
 
 suspense, 
 (Of which you are worthy in more than one sense,) 
 
132 NEW year's address. 
 
 " Quick, quick, I 'iii impalient ! Wliat aid do you 
 
 profter ? 
 Here's the mouey all ready — I close with your 
 
 offer!" 
 
 Have patience, good sir, you will hear it at last ; 
 The folks of our day are a ' leetle ' too fast, 
 For dreading lest, haply, they should be too late, 
 They wait not the evil — but anticipate; 
 You may flout my reproof with a shrug or a leer. 
 But hark, I will whisper some truths in your ear ! 
 
 Look around you, my friends, and what do you 
 
 behold ? 
 A land that flowed lately with silver and gold ; 
 The earth groaned with plenty, the air breathed of 
 
 health ; 
 Our commerce proclaimed both our power fnd our 
 
 weal til. 
 Expanded our empire from ocean to ocean, 
 
NEW YEARS ADDRESS. 133 
 
 To which all true hearts then proclaimed their 
 
 devotion ; 
 Our arts and onr sciences flourished apace, 
 And the Xations we led in improvement's swift race ; 
 The flood-gates of knowledge were open to all, 
 And the millions responded to Liberty's call ; 
 Our presses difiused the good seed through the land ; 
 Our patriots for freedom of speech made a stand ; 
 Peace reigned through our borders, and war was 
 
 unknown — 
 Save from far-distant rumor or fable alone. 
 These blessings and more were our lot here below. 
 You ask me, " Where are they ?" Pray, how should 
 
 I know? 
 I am not a Solomon — a carrier am I, 
 Yet a query or two I '11 put in reply: 
 
 Shall we, the sole arbiters of our own fate, 
 Yield up to this sectional demon of hate. 
 And blot the best hopes of our race here on earth 
 By crushing tlie germs of all vu'tue and worth? 
 Shall the " model Republic " a by-word become. 
 
134 NEW year's address. 
 
 While the Nations amazed are with horror struck 
 
 dumb ? 
 While Italy rallies her sons in the cause, 
 Shall we, in our Freedom's grand march, make a 
 
 pause — 
 Unravel the web which our fathers have wrought. 
 Or look on while the fabric to ruin is brous2:ht? 
 
 No, never, by Heaven! while one arm shall remain 
 To combat disunion, its guilt and its stain ! 
 No, never shall we sell our bii th-right for gold, 
 Handed down by those heroes — our fathers of old ! 
 The bare thought would arouse them from sleep in 
 
 their graves 
 To curse us as cowards — disoAvn us as slaves I 
 Let the traitors and fanatics fight for the prize 
 (Gold to such is a God — the sole light of their eyes) 
 Which the tempter holds out to debase and degrade, 
 They will snap at the bait and be caught — 't is their 
 
 trade ! 
 But the patriot's soul will forever be true 
 
NEW YEARS ADDRESS. 135 
 
 To that land wliere the first breath of freedom he 
 
 drew, 
 Though the storm drive its wreck through the waves 
 
 at its will, 
 He will love it the more and will cling to it still. 
 Then rally for Freedom — her hour draweth nigh ; 
 For her we shall live, or with her we shall die ! 
 
 We were told by base traitors, that this Constitution 
 Conld no barrier oppose to a mad revolution ; 
 That treason, rebellion and crime must go free, 
 And, unwhipt, blight the land with their wild 
 
 anarchy. 
 \Yould Jackson thus talk ? ' By th' Eternal,' not so ! 
 Like lightning, his bolt would have laid treason low ; 
 Ere the hydra had raised his fell head from the 
 
 ground. 
 The monster its death-blow from him would have 
 
 found. 
 
 Society can its own members restrain, 
 
 If furv or mailness should seize on their brain; 
 
136 NEW YEARS ADDRESS. 
 
 And SO can tlie States this rebellion control, 
 Since mad it would seek to dismember the -w hole ; 
 But for this the great mass of good men must unite, 
 Since no 'section' nor 'faction' can coj^e with this 
 
 fight; 
 And who denies this is a coward and slave. 
 Or, wliat is still worse, a base traitor and knave ! 
 
 Wo all can remember the grief and surprise 
 Of our good Uncle Sam — the big tears in liis eyes, 
 When he saw his fine home by a bolt torn asunder; 
 How he called on Old Buck — then intent upon 
 
 plunder ! 
 Next Sam, in despair, called on Cass, but alas. 
 Faint echo perversely replied, "Where is Cass?" 
 Next, Uncle dived into his fob for his eagles. 
 And found they were plundered by placemen and 
 
 beagles, 
 And with horror he saw, his hand still in his fob. 
 That they'd rifled his crib, nor e'en left him a Cobb ! 
 
NEW year's address. 137 
 
 But now the poor man has got nothing to say, 
 Though robbed by new Floyds and Jiew Cobbs 
 
 every day : 
 They abound high and low, and in every station — 
 In the army, the navy — throughout the whole nation ; 
 Our soldiers they 've cheated in stomach and body ; 
 They've shod them with clouts, and they've clad 
 
 them with shoddy I 
 So that Uncle, exhausted in funds by each job, 
 Will soon, it is feared, be left nothing to rob ; 
 Even now his old garments are worn so threadbare 
 It is plain he Avill soon be left " nothing to wear ;" 
 But he bears it right bravely — now wincing, now 
 
 grinning, 
 His pains still decrease by the practice of skinning ; 
 Till 'reft of all treasure, of sense e'en bereft, 
 Neither coat, breeks nor crib, Cobb or fob will be 
 
 left! 
 
 And now, as historian, the Carrier will talk 
 
 Of affairs that took place here, at home on his walk ; 
 12 
 
138 NEW year's address. 
 
 Wliat changes, imi^rovements and scenes have 
 
 occuiTed, 
 Since, one year ago, his report you have heard : 
 Our State was advancing in morals and wealth, 
 And our city was blessed with abundance and health ; 
 Till rebellion, the Ui^as-tree blighting our land, 
 (Whose shadow is death where its branches expand,) 
 Spread a gloom o'er our prospects, our hoj^es ren- 
 dered vain. 
 And caused us to mourn for our patriots slain ! 
 Oh, cursed be the wretch, north or south, east or 
 
 west. 
 Who kindled or faun'd this fell flame in each breast ! 
 
 As to scenes — the election produced a sensation, 
 And * blue-lights ' enough to enlighten the nation, 
 And GAS quite abundant was freely discharged. 
 To puff up our rivals and show them enlarged 
 Beyond all the bounds that Dame Nature intended ; 
 Sucli weapons and more were quite freely expended 
 111 canvassing votes, both by bribes and corruption, 
 
189 
 
 By whisky, by lies, and by secret seduction, 
 
 Till, Icarus-like, self-inflated and rash, 
 
 They burst up in mid air and came down with a 
 
 crash ! 
 But abuse of our candidates served but to raise 
 Honest friends to our cause — such abuse was their 
 
 praise ; 
 For while they to high honors in triumph were sent, 
 Their steps toward " Salt River " the Copperheads 
 
 bent. 
 Their loss and discomfiture sadly to mourn ; 
 But see, they come back ! and we hail their return. 
 Reconciled to their fate, and good friends to the 
 
 laws, 
 It is hoped, they '11 now join in fair Liberty's cause ; 
 And, forgetting the past, will make haste to unite 
 With the friends of the Union, in faith and in right. 
 
 Well, now for a sermon : Last year brought about, 
 Like its fellows, strange scenes and some changes, 
 no doubt. 
 
140 NEW YEAR S ADDKESS. 
 
 Of* joy and of sorrow, of pleasure and pain; 
 
 But one tiling is clear, it will ne'er come again; 
 
 It is gone with the years that have passed since the 
 
 flood, 
 But its record, alas, has been one traced in blood ; 
 Yet the year that is on us our own we can make, 
 If time by the forelock we wisely shall take ; 
 Improve every moment our minds to expand, 
 And diffuse noble principles over the land ; 
 Enhghten men's darkness, relieve their distress, 
 And thus, blessing others, ourselves we shall bless ; 
 And such is the aim of our present ad<]ress ! 
 Thus having accomplished our end and our aim. 
 Your smiles of approval and quarters we claim-; 
 Who give to the carrier lend the Lord who is just; 
 If you like the security, " down with the dust!" 
 
 *"The dust!' pray, for what? Do you mean this 
 
 to be a 
 Nostrum, a plaster, a sure panacea 
 Fur w ar, lor disunion, secession and sorrow, 
 
NEW year's address. 141 
 
 "Which, threat'ning to-day, makes us sad for to- 
 morrow ? 
 
 You promised to give us some bahn at the close, 
 
 To soothe all our sorrows and heal all our woes ; 
 
 Then, pray, why dismiss us with husks such as 
 those?" 
 
 What ! ever to learn ? Can you not comprehend ? 
 Though so fast, you are slow — well, take this from 
 
 a friend, 
 My balm is this text, which I hope you '11 improve : 
 Quite enough for the day is the evil thereof ! 
 
CARRIER'S ADDRESS. 
 
 Januaky 1, 1863. 
 
 Good friends, I am no politician, 
 So I trust that you will me excuse 
 
 From wearing my brain by attrition, 
 Since for you I am wearing my shoes. 
 
 I had hoped to get some one to write me 
 A piece which your fiivors might win ; 
 
 But the bards, one and all, seemed to slight me, 
 Though I tried to inspire tliem — with tin. 
 
 But my wife said to me, " Now, my honey, 
 You have wit — why not put it to use ? 
 
 If you can't turn your goose-quill to money, 
 Why, then, you must be a great goose ! 
 
144 caeriee's address. 
 
 Look around — there is Tom, Dick and Harry, 
 Once ditchers, and choppers, and sawyers ; 
 
 See how high now tlieir sheops' heads tliey carry, 
 As editors, doctors and lawyers !" 
 
 Thus bantered and urged on by Nancy, 
 I plunge in ! Do you wish me to scan 
 
 The acts of Floyd, Davis, Cobb, Yancey, 
 And relate how the strife first began ? 
 
 Well, you know that Miss Kansas, our cousin. 
 Once had suitors from North and from South, 
 
 From East and from West, by the dozen ; 
 But for none would she open her mouth. 
 
 Then her guardian. Old Buck, waxed quite rusty, 
 And said he, " You must wed, I declare — 
 
 Don't turn up your nose nor get crusty; 
 Do n't you see I am wanting an lieir ? 
 
carrier's address. 145 
 
 There 's a gallant of nightly extraction, 
 Lays himself and his — slaves at your feet; 
 
 He loves you — he swears to distraction ! 
 What better could suit you, my sweet ?" 
 
 But Kansas was callous or cunning. 
 And slie turned up her nose as before ; 
 
 And said she, " Uncle Buck, you 're but funning, 
 And, besides, I another adore !" 
 
 " Pooh, nonsense ! Young girls read romances, 
 And think themselves able to judge, 
 
 When, in truth, their best thoughts are wild fancies ; 
 I will teach you good sense ! This is fudge !" 
 
 Now it chanced that her old tutor, "Duggy," 
 Came up in the midst of this scene. 
 
 And he rode in his own one-horse buggy,* 
 And he drove in his buggy between. 
 
 ♦The Kansas-Nebraska Bill. 
 
 13 
 
146 carrier's address. 
 
 And said ho, " Brother Buck, this is tTuel; 
 
 Shall the girl have no will of her own? 
 Don't you know she's my [)et and my jewel? 
 
 I shall never ray pupil disown ! 
 
 I have promised her, times without number, 
 She should never be forced in her choice ; 
 
 And now I 'm resolved not to slumber, 
 Till her friends all respond to my voice." 
 
 Thus her voice became free, unrestricted, 
 And the Xorth, lier tkue lover, she chose. 
 
 And hence we 've been sorely afflicted ; 
 From this source all our troubles arose. 
 
 For the NiGHT-errant, fire-eating suitor, 
 Who befoi'c by her beauty was smitten, 
 
 Swore vengeance 'gainst lu'r and Ikt tutor. 
 The moment she gave him the mitten. 
 
147 
 
 And he issued a roving commission 
 To Floyd, Yancey, Davis and Cobb, 
 
 To proceed quick, without intermission, 
 His rival to rifle and rob. 
 
 So they stole many small arms and cannon. 
 And him of some strong-holds bereft ; 
 
 And no doubt they 'd have robbed Jim Buchanan 
 Of his soul — if he 'd had any left ! 
 
 And at Sumter, Bull Run and Ball's Bluff, 
 He dealt us hard knocks, I admit ; 
 
 But we soon made him hollow, "Enough!" 
 At Donelson, Shiloh, to wit. 
 
 But while those with brave Grant, Pope and Siegel 
 Were pounding the rebels, out West; 
 
 At Richmond our mud-tuktle eagle 
 Was intrenchino; himself in liis nest. 
 
148 
 
 And said lie, " T had rather encounter 
 
 The foe with my spades than my guns." 
 Now such EAGLES WQ nail to the counter, 
 
 As COUNTERFEIT NaPOLEONS. 
 
 'T is a loft-handed kind of ambition, 
 When a Gen'ral cooped up in his hole, 
 
 Like a bear, will not change his position 
 Until poked in the ribs with a poll. 
 
 And that poll will tempt him to liis ruin, 
 To climb towards the President's chair ; 
 
 Till, swept from his feet, it leave Bruin 
 To wallow once more in his lair! 
 
 This mighty Napoleon of Hardshells 
 
 Could ne'er be induced to ailvance 
 While there lacked but one spade to his mud-sills, 
 
 Or their pants lacked one button by chance. 
 
carrier's address. 149 
 
 Let 'em slide — since more worthy succeed them, 
 Brave Burnside, McClernand and Banks ; 
 
 And others will rise as we need them, 
 To fill and adorn Freedom's ranks. 
 
 For the God of our Fathers ordains it, 
 
 That Freedom reign th.rough our whole realm ; 
 
 And by virtue and valor maintains it, 
 While LiNCOLX presides at the helm. 
 
 Undaunted, he clings to his station. 
 
 Through the storm guides the good Ship of State ; 
 His watch-words, "Hope, Emaxcipation !" 
 
 Triumphant o'er foemen and fate ! 
 
 Yes, Lincoln, steer on in thy glory, 
 Be Freedom thy pole-star on high ; 
 
 And thy name, both in song and in story, 
 Shall blaze while yon sun fires the sky ! 
 
150 CAKllIERS ADDRESS. 
 
 Now, of home mid tl»e cliangeable breezes, 
 You wish nie to tell you some saws : 
 
 When the wind Wows riglit eold, tlien it freezes; 
 When the sun shines out warm — then it thaws. 
 
 And when the fierce war-fever rages. 
 The Democrats all catch the chills ; 
 
 But when an election engages 
 
 Their thoughts, they forget all their ills, 
 
 And crawl from their dusky recesses. 
 Driven forth by the demagogue's lash. 
 
 Some through whisky commit great excesses; 
 Some vote for secesu — some for cash. 
 
 And then they call this " a reaction," 
 
 "A great revolution," forsooth ! 
 When 'tis only the fang of the faction, 
 
 Which can't bite, though it still shows its tooth. 
 
cahkier's address. 151 
 
 I might add — but I feel quite deficient, 
 (Practice only makes perfect they say,) 
 
 Yet I think I have told you suflicient 
 Your "quarters" to conjure away. 
 
 " Odds-zooks, man ! the times are too dreadful, 
 
 And quarters are not to be had ; 
 For the war-tax has swallowed the needful, 
 
 And the Carrier's chances are bad." 
 
 Hold, sir ! Lend an ear to my story ; 
 
 For the Carrier you then will decide ; 
 If the fine arts form part of your glory — 
 
 Home production a part of your pride. 
 
 There was once an old tribe of Precisians 
 (They were Danites, I dare to suppose,) 
 
 Who long suffoi-ed for lack of provisions, 
 Till a Genius amoncjst them arose. 
 
152 CAKHIKIi's ADDKIlSS. 
 
 Tliis wortliy first taught them back-gamiuon, 
 (It was gammon, or clieat, some say cliess,) 
 
 Which made them ohhvious of famine, 
 And greatly assuaged their distress. 
 
 To his memory, 't is said, they erected, 
 ('T is now all in ruins,) — a mound ; 
 
 Now more worthy than his, if dissected, 
 My merits will surely be found. 
 
 If from Avar-tax I draw your attention. 
 
 Shut out debts and duns from your view — 
 
 Mine is likewise a happy invention. 
 And worth a remembrancer too. 
 
 Truly, wit is a miglity exlioiter, 
 
 For I see you have laughed yourselves fat; 
 Now as freely you deal ou't your quaiter, 
 
 May your duns deal yuu quarter for that. 
 
THE POWER OF MUSIC. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO 
 
 PATTI AND GOTTS CHALK, 
 Heard in Concert at Springfield, January 8, 1863. 
 
 Of Orplieus and Arion ye have heard ; 
 
 One by his music charming trees and rocks 
 
 To dance, enraptured, to his magic art ; 
 
 Compelling Pluto, in the shades below, 
 
 Th' inexorable law of fate to o'errule, 
 
 And yield him up Euridice, his wife : 
 
 The other, by the touches of his lyre. 
 
 Joined to the thrilling accents of his song. 
 
 The dolphins from the ocean's depths alluring 
 
 To sport dehghted 'round the unfriendly bark 
 
 Whose murderous crew, impelled by thirst of gold, 
 
 Like swine, regardless of the precious freight 
 
 They bore in company, conspired to rob 
 
 The minstrel of liis treasure and his life ; 
 
154 THE POWER OF MUSIC. 
 
 Granting this simple boon, sought by liis prayer: 
 That he once more miglit tune his harp to sing 
 A parting song of peace, a funeral dirge, 
 To soothe his spirit on its march of death. 
 
 And how he sang, yon 've heard — : how from the 
 
 depths 
 Of ocean and its coral caves there sprung 
 A wondrous audience. As, at dead of night, 
 When tlie alarm-bell strikes the sleeping ear. 
 And calls the citizens to rouse themselves 
 And save their cherished homes from fire or sword ; 
 They rush, they hasten to whatever sjDot 
 The danger threatens : — So the finny tribes, 
 Sleeping in shady caverns of the deep, 
 Roused by th' unwonted tones, spring foith and rush 
 Impetuous towards the spot whence flow llie sounds, 
 And tliere remain enchant eil, till the close. 
 A pause succeeds — when hark ! a sullen splash, 
 At which the monsters of the deep take flight ; 
 All, save the dolphins, as by instinct taught, 
 
THE POWER OF MUSIC. 155 
 
 That the sweet music flows from source divine. 
 
 And that the minstrel needs their friendly aid. 
 So, as Arion with his sounding lyre 
 Is sinking in the wave, they, like true friends, 
 Subject their backs beneath and buoy him up ; 
 And waft their precious burden to the shore ! 
 
 Nor deem these fables vain ; nor disbelieve, 
 Because they seem of miracles compact. 
 They have their uses and significance. 
 Besides, Art is a miracle more strange, 
 More inconceivable to clods of clay, 
 Than any in the saintly calendar! 
 Nature produces wonders, but requires 
 Much time and space her mysteries to unfold : 
 She works by gradual sequences, and groups 
 Her various works in many lands and climes. 
 But Art is, like to God, omnipotent 
 And omnipresent ; and, like Him, creates, 
 From scattered and disjointed elements, 
 Whole worlds of beauty and magnificence 
 
166 THE rOWER OF MUSIC. 
 
 To cliarm the sense and teacli th' immortal soul, 
 Tliirstinj^ for knowledge, great, undying truths. 
 
 'T is thus the Muse of history and song 
 
 Recalls the by-gone ages to our mind. 
 
 And marshals them before our wondering eyes. 
 
 'T is tlms the painter and the sculptor cull, 
 
 From Nature's field of color and of form. 
 
 The concentrated essences of all 
 
 That is most lovely and most exquisite 
 
 In individuals or single groups. 
 
 In order to produce, in all its parts, 
 
 A new creation, blending every cliarm 
 
 Of nature's favorite mold, and lacking none. 
 
 Whoever shall in this great art excel, 
 
 lie is a master, and on him the world 
 
 The God-like name of Genius will confer. 
 
 Gottschalk, to thee this name is justly due ; 
 Who, by thy wondrous mastery o'er sounds, 
 
THE POWER OF MUSIC. 157 
 
 Unaided by articulate siDeech, hast formed 
 
 A new creation of thine own ; a world 
 
 Of miracles ; a paradise of sweets ; 
 
 That more than realize the dreams of old, 
 
 The witchery of Orpheus in the woods, 
 
 Or of Arion 'midst the finny tribes ; 
 
 And, aided by the si^en, Patti's voice. 
 
 Not only canst thou move the trees and rocks ; 
 
 Cliarm the mute fishes in their liquid homes ; 
 
 But thou canst change the seasons in their course. 
 
 And mold the mood or landscape at thy will ! 
 
 Entranced I listened as the change went on ; 
 And felt through every nerve the influence 
 Of each successive change like one who dreams 
 Of Paradise and dreads lest lie awake ! 
 
 The winter's sullen gloom, the snow-clad earth. 
 The streams in icy fetters strongly bound, 
 The leafless forests moaning in the blast. 
 Are touched by magic of the master's hand 
 
158 THE POWER OF MUSIC. 
 
 Or siren's voice, and lo ! briglit sunny skies 
 With trees of richest verdure, laughing brooks 
 Sinjxino: throuixh ine.-ulows rich witli the; perfumes 
 Of new-mown hay, and roses greet my sense. 
 The hmdscape smiles around; the warblers pour 
 Their clioicest melodies ; the nigliting.ile 
 As emulous of Patti's peerless strain. 
 Redoubles all her efforts to excel. 
 Till overcome, she dies from grief and shame ; 
 While pitying zephyr moans amongst the leaves, 
 Now soft, now loud, as grief or rage prevail. 
 Anon, with mighty sweep the rising storm, 
 Hushing resistless through the shrieking woods, 
 Now nearer comes and nearer, till, at length. 
 It bursts in fearful thunder o'er our heads. 
 And seems to rend the solid earth in twain ; 
 At length its voice in softest whispers dies. 
 And, mingling Avith the babbling fountain's song, 
 To sweet repose invites the weary soul. 
 
 Anon, the bells from some fair village chime 
 The vesper hour; at which the hum of i)rayer, 
 
th:e power of music. 159 
 
 The organ, mingleil with the evemiig hymn, 
 Are heard to float aloft to listening Heaven. 
 The cattle low responsive to their yomig ; 
 The snowy flocks with their sweet tinkling bells 
 Browse happy on the plain. Their bleating lambs, 
 Emblems of innocence, partake their bliss, 
 And frolic round them in excess of joy. 
 
 And hark that joyous strain ! 'T is Raclielette 
 
 Who sings her rustic song with lightsome heart, 
 
 While her tall, knightly lover sighs in vain ! 
 
 Oh, what a harmony of mingling sounds ! 
 
 Through which the maiden's strain may still be heard 
 
 Distinct, as silver threads appear more bright 
 
 In contrast with the sombre velvet warp ; 
 
 Or as pure streamlets through dark landscapes gleam; 
 
 Luxuriant landscapes in some happy isle ! 
 
 And now we hear the Ojos' joyous songs, 
 Who bask in >:un8hine in the fair Antilles, 
 
160 THE rOWER OF MUSIC. 
 
 The blood of old Castile — whose melodies 
 
 Seemed blended of the mingled tones of flutes, 
 
 Of flageolets and piccolos, with strains 
 
 Of thrushes, finches, nightingales and all 
 
 The sweet-voiced mijistrels of the w<jrld combined; 
 
 Yet each distinct, a wild and wondrous maze! 
 
 Another change ! Giim Darkness spreads her wings ; 
 
 We hear them flap})ing on the murky air; 
 
 And the dull welkin echoes them wilh sighs. 
 
 AVe hear the warring of the elements ; 
 
 The clouds are gathering and the pattering rain 
 
 Begins to f dl in heavy, measured drops 
 
 And solemn foot-fall o'er us on the roof. 
 
 But soon it thickens : — down the torrent pours ; 
 
 The swollen gutters murmur as they run ; 
 
 And from the eaves the water bubbles fast — 
 
 Now riislies down in torrents : Standing aghast, 
 
 I seek a place of shelter — but in vain ! 
 
 The flood increases — now it is a sea ! 
 
 And on its bosom what do I behold ? 
 
THE POWER OF MUSIC. 161 
 
 A lovely bark with sails all set and free 
 
 Quick bounding o'er it, like a thing of life ! 
 
 And on its lofty deck what do I see? 
 
 A minstrel, and a maid as angel fair, 
 
 Who flood the air with music — all tlie tribes 
 
 Of ocean listen to the melting lay. 
 
 Then comes a pause — and then a crash is heard — 
 
 I start in terror ! Can this be a dream ? 
 
 The dolphins bear upon their faithful backs 
 
 The minstrels through the wave of wild applause, 
 
 And land them on the solid rock of Fame ! 
 
^ 
 
THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 
 
 Inscribed to Gen. R J. Oglesby, 
 
 On hearing his great Union Speech in Representatives Hall, in 
 Springfield, 111,, January 9, 1863. 
 
 Brave Oglesby, I thank the Lord my God, 
 
 That I have lived to realize this truth, 
 
 That patriotic and heroic hearts, 
 
 Wise heads, and tongues of burning eloquence. 
 
 Are still amongst us — still prepared to stem 
 
 The fearful flood of anarchy and crime 
 
 Which threatens to o'erwhelm us — and that we, 
 
 The people, still retain the instinctive love 
 
 For truth and justice which our honored sires 
 
 Bequeathed to us — the noblest legacy. 
 
 Assembled in our capital the chiefs. 
 Devoted to their country and their God, 
 
164 THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 
 
 Were seated in council, to deliberate 
 
 Upon our Nation's perils and our own ; 
 
 Assailed by open enemies abroad, 
 
 And threatened by pretended friends at home. 
 
 The citizens stood densL4y crowded round, 
 
 And beauty graced the galleries. A strain 
 
 Of patriotic music filled the hall ; 
 
 And scarcely had its echoes died away, 
 
 When many hundred voices cried at once 
 
 The name of " Oglesby." The hero rose 
 
 Slow and majestic, suffering still from wounds 
 
 Received by him at hard-fought Donelson, 
 
 Where he had poured his blood in Freedom's cause; 
 
 And where his life he would have sacrificed 
 
 To save his coifntry from its threatened doom ; 
 
 But God the will accepted for the deed, 
 
 And, by a miracle, preserved that life 
 
 For future efforts in her sacred cause ! 
 
 In him his fellow citizens beheld 
 
 Their beau ideal of the hero-race — 
 
 A MAN of true nobility of soul ; 
 
THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 165 
 
 And recognizing his great worth, with cheers 
 Loud and prolonged they greeted his address : 
 
 " My fellow citizens :" the hero cried, 
 
 " If we would be successful in this war, 
 
 We must renounce whatever might divert 
 
 Our purpose for a moment to crush out 
 
 This foul conspiracy, this causeless wrong 
 
 Against our country and huiuanity. 
 
 We must renounce all selfishness, and yield 
 
 All thoughts of aggrandizement for a while ; 
 
 And be true patriots, both in name and deed. 
 
 Why then those sullen mutterings which we hear 
 
 Of grovelhng wretches fearing to be taxed 
 
 A portion of their substance, to sustain 
 
 The noblest structure which this world has seen; 
 
 The pride, the boast, the glory of the world ? 
 
 r>o any grudge a part to save the whole ? 
 
 What Avere our wealth without a ojovernment 
 
 Strong to defend and willing to protect 
 
 Each citizen in his inherent rijzht ; 
 
166 THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 
 
 His life, his substance and liis liberty? 
 
 Are these wortli nothing ? Will no sacrifice 
 
 Of present comfort or of future wealth 
 
 Be made these glorious blessings to secure 
 
 To us and our j»osterity forever ? 
 
 WouUl any grudge a half to save the whole? 
 
 Yet, should this war for ten long years pi-evail, 
 
 Not e'en one tenth would ever be required; 
 
 And who amongst us would refuse a tenth 
 
 To render life and all it gives secure ? 
 
 As citizens we have undoubted right 
 
 The acts of public servants to discuss ; 
 
 But no man has a right, in times like these, 
 
 Against the lawful, constituted powers. 
 
 Whose aims are right, whose purposes are just, 
 
 A factious opposition to maintain, 
 
 Injurious to the welfare of the State, 
 
 Or such as should give comfort to its foes. 
 
 And if there be in Illinois to-night 
 
 Such characters as I here indicate, 
 
THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 167 
 
 Then brand them traitors to their country's cause, 
 
 And bitter eneniiL'S to God and man. 
 
 At least permit me to assert this much, 
 
 That knowing Abraham Lincohi as I do, 
 
 Were I to tln-o\v obstructions in his path 
 
 Whilst laboring for my good, I sliould betray 
 
 A captious spirit and a little mind, 
 
 Unwortliy of a soldier and a man. 
 
 I speak but for myself; for no one else ! 
 
 I recognize no narrow party ties ; 
 
 I claim no sympathy with factious men. 
 
 My country claims my heart, my life, my all ! 
 
 The great, grand Union party ! that is mine, 
 
 And that alone, my country and my God ! 
 
 Our noble President demands our praise. 
 
 And how can we refuse it, being just ? 
 
 While living here amongst us well we knew 
 
 And recognized his worth. As " honest Abe " 
 
 We hailed him then; and is he prone to change? 
 
 No, no ! he does not change ! his heart is right; 
 
 Although, as being mortal, not a God, 
 
 His judgment may be liable to err; 
 
168 THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 
 
 Yet, if an Angel ever blessed our eartli — 
 
 A stranger to corruption and to pride; 
 
 Grand in his pure nobility of soul; 
 
 Of innate dignity, unselfish lieart. 
 
 And linn, unswerving purpose to do right: 
 
 In .Vbr.di.ini Lincoln such miglit well be found. 
 
 We all remember when that great, good man 
 
 ('Tis now two years ago,) took leave of us, 
 
 The duties of his office to assume ; 
 
 How deep the sympathy, how warm the prayers 
 
 Of all who knew him were for his success ; 
 
 And how, surrounded by his country's foes. 
 
 Assailed, at every step, with calumny, 
 
 And threatened by the assassin's bloody knife — 
 
 His country torn with faction and dismembered — 
 
 He entered the Nation's Capitol and assumed 
 
 The reins of government, witli poit sublime, 
 
 A courage which the consciousness of right. 
 
 The i^urpose to redress his country's wrongs, 
 
 And rule with justice and humanity. 
 
 Alone could have imparted, through his God. 
 
 And thus confiding in his i-ighteous cause, 
 
THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 169 
 
 And in the blessing of approving Heaven, 
 
 He ever since has followed in the course 
 
 He then marked out. And who will dare to say 
 
 He ever, for a moment, turned aside 
 
 From that strict path of right ; so far, at least, 
 
 As human judgment may decide? For me, 
 
 I shall be slow to censure or condemn 
 
 A man of such nobility of soul ; 
 
 E'en though through human frailty he may err ; 
 
 "To err is human; to forgive, divine." 
 
 Be slow, my friends, to censure generous hearts ; 
 
 Be slow our honored Lincoln to condemn ! 
 
 The love of country is a privilege 
 
 Which all men may enjoy. To fight for it. 
 
 The greatest boon bestowed on mortal man, 
 
 Is one which is vouchsafed but to the few. 
 
 'T is incommunicable — it is supreme. 
 
 Unspeakable, absorbing in itself 
 
 The greatest good that man can reach below; 
 
 An earnest and a foretaste of tlie bliss 
 15 
 
170 THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 
 
 The ransomed and redeemed enjoy in Heaven I 
 
 When jj^lorious victory crow. is the patriot's toil ; 
 
 AVlicn, in llie midst of cai-n.iL;-t' and of death, 
 
 The bloody striiiigle for the Nation's life, 
 
 The foe is eruslied ; and on their i)rostrate works, 
 
 His comrades clieering him witli wild hu/zas, 
 
 He plants trininj)haiitly the Stars and Strij)es, 
 
 There is a feeling grander, more sublime 
 
 Than any other which the heart can feel ; 
 
 Which none can know save those whom Heaven 
 
 vonchsafes 
 The dangers and the triumphs to partake ! 
 
 How mean, how paltry, in such scenes as these, 
 Do pohtics and party strife appear ! 
 Shall I refuse my comrade's proffered hand, 
 Baptised in rebel blood, and consecrate 
 To glory in the sacred cause of Kight, 
 Because, forsooth, he differed tVoni my creed 
 Tn polities or faith, in times gone by, 
 And diifers now; but yet who by my side 
 
THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 171 
 
 Fights like a brother in a common cause, 
 Which knows no bigot or sectarian creed; 
 No party, save the brotlierhood of men. 
 Shedding tlieir blood for Union and the Right? 
 Shame, shame on those vile dastards, cowards, slaves, 
 Who skulk at home from danger, and who sow 
 The seeds of faction and of discord 'twixt 
 Those noble spirits, who have laughed at fear, 
 And, shoulder to shoulder, braved the cannon's 
 
 mouth ! 
 For what ? That traitors might assail their rear 
 From covert batteries, within whose screen 
 They belch their treason ; for a time secure, 
 As they imagine ! or who will not make 
 The smallest sacrifice for Fatherland, 
 In this, its hour of danger and of woe ; 
 But hinder others in their patriot work ! 
 If such there be in Illinois, to-night. 
 Hear me, ye semiloyal ! such men sink 
 Themselves in deep damnation ; yea, 80 deep 
 That no redemption e'er can reacli them there — ■ 
 They sink to ruin and can rise no moi-e ! 
 
1V2 THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 
 
 My fellow citizens, be reassured ; 
 
 Be not <leceived, ye traitors, but beware: 
 
 If, for a moment, the great public heart 
 
 01" tliis proud people seems to sink or quail, 
 
 'T will soon revive and reassert itself, 
 
 And, through its own elastic force, resume 
 
 Its norm:d state and crush the foe to dust! 
 
 That mighty heart is right, and ever beats 
 
 In unison with justice, freedom, truth ; 
 
 Nor will it rest, until a glorious peace 
 
 Is conquered, and rebellion hides its head 
 
 In its own hell, whence it no more can rise 
 
 To scourge our country with its scorpion sting. 
 
 And citizens, forget not those who fight 
 Your battles in the field ; encourage them 
 By woi-d and deed, and cheer their faithful hearts, 
 To bear their hardships and privations, such 
 As few here reck of. Help their f imilies ; 
 Let not the wives and children of the brave 
 Suifer at home, while sire and husband fight 
 For you and yours, and all that y<>u hoM dear; 
 
THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 173 
 
 And aid your noble Governor whose time, 
 
 Whose matchless energy, whose skill and care, 
 
 Have been unceasingly applied, to help 
 
 The solilier and the cause for which he fights ! 
 
 Yea ! Richard Yates has nobly done his part ! 
 
 To him the country and his native State 
 
 Are deeply bound in gratitude and love ; 
 
 And every soldier and his family. 
 
 Within the bounds of our illustrious State, 
 
 Has cause to call down blessings on his head. 
 
 And he who would malign him for this cause, 
 
 Acts from the impulse of a traitorous heart ; 
 
 And infamy shall be his just reward, 
 
 So long as man can judge of right and wrong. 
 
 You ask my views of that much talked of act, 
 By which so many millions of our race 
 Are to humanity and its rights restored ; 
 And what the Army thinks about the same. 
 
 What all our troops may think 't were hard to say, 
 But with those portions of them which I know, 
 
174 THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 
 
 The act is popular. Tlicy think it right 
 That those whose aim it is to take their lives, 
 By means of gmis or slaves, sliould be deprived 
 Of either instrument, or both. They feel 
 But slight compunction to deprive tlie foe 
 Of murderous weapons, whether steel or slaves, 
 Or anything that gives the rebels strength : 
 They do not think that rebels sliould enjoy 
 (Although they be slave-owners) sacred rights 
 In human bones and sinews, paramount 
 To those which soldiers have in selt-defense ; 
 Who would their country and her rights protect 
 Against the aggression of those rebel hordes; 
 Nor would they weep to see the dagger snatched 
 From out th' assassin's hand. A soldier, too, 
 I coincide with them. The Southern States 
 Spurn all our overtures, while they employ 
 Their slaves to our destruction, like their guns. 
 Why, then, I cannot recognize their right 
 To kill me with then* slaves, or with their swords. 
 But would of both disarm them ! What say you ? 
 
THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 175 
 
 1 'in answered l)y your cheers ! — the argument 
 Has hit the mark. 'Tis well, my friends! Good 
 i.iuht." 
 
 How awful is the power of eloquence ! 
 
 How mighty and tremendous is the right! 
 
 How irresistible the power of truth, 
 
 Issuing like two-edged sword from righteous lips ! 
 
 How scathing are the bolts of argument, 
 
 In justice hurled against rebellious heads! 
 
 How terrible the wounds which tbey inflict! 
 
 More terrible tlian those which mighty Jove 
 
 Inflicted on the Titans who piled up 
 
 Pelion on Ossa, that their impious crew 
 
 Might scale the walls of Heaven ! More terrible 
 
 Than those inflicted by th' arch-angel's sword 
 
 On Satan and his rebel host, cast down 
 
 From bliss of Paradise to deepest hell. 
 
 'T was thus the noble soldier-citizen, 
 Resistless in the forum as the field, 
 
176 THE rOWER OP ELOQUENCE. 
 
 Hurled thunderLolts of truth and sliells of flame 
 
 Against tliose vile and sordid men who seek 
 
 For power and station in their CuuiitryVs lall ; 
 
 Who glory in her worst calamity. 
 
 Nor ceased his batteries to play until 
 
 The dastard horde, the conscience-stricken ciew, 
 
 Writhing with torture visible to all, 
 
 Shrank back affrighted into nothingness, 
 
 The scorn and laughing-stock of all mankind. 
 
 How grand, majestic, did the hero seem, 
 
 Expanding to the stature of a god, 
 
 As warmed, lie rose with his tremendous theme ! 
 
 All sense of suffering was laid aside ; 
 
 All memory of marches, hardships, wounds ; 
 
 And nothing save his Country and her woes 
 
 Remembered in that glorious hour sublime; 
 
 And as the wind sweeps o'er the w^atery plain, 
 
 Stirring its billows to their utmost depths. 
 
 His eloquence so stirred the hearts of men, 
 
 And molded to his will. A surtrin'j: wavo 
 
THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. iVY 
 
 Of Imnian beings, rolling to and fro, 
 In syinpalliy with every word lie spoke, 
 Could scarce restrain tlieir feelings till the close 
 Of eacli bold climax gave the pent-up force 
 A license to explode in wild aj)plause; 
 And then the roof and distant Avelkin rang 
 With peal on peal ; and angels stooped to bear 
 The grateful incense to the throne of God. 
 
 Well can we realize th' historic truths 
 
 Transmitted to our day through every age, 
 
 How Eloquence, the child of Liberty, 
 
 Has ever labored in her sacred cause. 
 
 How Pei'icles aroused his native land 
 
 To deeds immortal, by his bui-ning words ; 
 
 And how Demosthenes, devoid of arms, 
 
 Save those which truth and eloquence supplied, 
 
 Kept wily Pliilip and his hordes at bay. 
 
 And saved his country ; how, at ancient Rome, 
 
 The listening forum echoed Tully's voice, 
 
 Denouncing tyranny with matchless power, 
 
178 THE POWER OF ELOQUENCE. 
 
 Or calming the wildest passions to repose; 
 These noble truths we now can make our own, 
 Since Oglesby has taught us here to-night 
 Tlie boundless power of eloquence and truth. 
 
 Judge not the master's eloquence, my friends, 
 
 By this imperfect sketch, this skeleton 
 
 Of what he uttered . Nor, c^ould I impart 
 
 Ilis every word, should ye e'en judge from tliem 
 
 The power lie wielded; since, in eloquence, 
 
 Much on the speaker's manner must depend ; 
 
 Ilis look, his gesture and the saci-ed flame 
 
 By which he is inspired. 'T was nobly said 
 
 By ^Eschines, when, by his scholars j)raised 
 
 For splendid reading of that brilliant speech. 
 
 By which himself was vanquished : " Ah, my 
 
 friends," 
 lie said, "I thank you for your kind applause; 
 But had you heard Demosthenes himself, 
 Deliver that which I but fi'cbly read, 
 How grc.it your admiration wouKl have been! 
 How rapturous your thunders of applause!" 
 
HYMN FOR THANKSGIVING DAY. 
 
 1863. 
 
 How can we raise our thoughts to thee, 
 
 Our Father aud our God ? 
 Or from thy wrath where can we flee, 
 
 Or thy avenging rod ? 
 Our cup of woe is flowing o'er, 
 Our Country bleeds at every pore. 
 
 O God, our Father, we confess 
 
 Ours is the guilt and shame ; 
 While thy kind hand was stretched to bless, 
 
 We spurned tliy sacred name : 
 Thy goodness and thy love forgot, 
 Or scorned, as if remembered not. 
 
180 HYMX FOR THANKSGIVING DAY. 
 
 To thee, for all thy mercies shown, 
 
 What tribute did we bring ? 
 We hugged an idol of our own, 
 
 Who ruled our hearts as king ; 
 To him our thoughts, our all were given, 
 While thee Ave mock'd, and scoft*'d at Heaven! 
 
 The widow and the fitherless 
 
 We sorely have oppressed ; 
 And those already in distress, 
 
 We have still more distressed; 
 Our greedy hnnds have seized the prey. 
 Gold, gokl must come, come whence it may. 
 
 And to attain it, we have brayed. 
 
 In brazen mortars strong, 
 Tl)e limbs of men whom we had flayed, 
 
 Nor deemed the deed was wrong ; 
 We've melted in the furnace llanie 
 Tlieir hearts, nor thouglit it sin nor shame ! 
 
HYMN FOR TUANKSGIVING DAY. 181 
 
 And if a'lvretch escaped the rack, 
 
 We credit claimed from God, 
 That to his hell we drove him back, 
 
 And to tlie avenging rod. 
 Om- noblest aim, our chief desire, 
 Seemed, how to fan the despot's fire. 
 
 We 've said, 't was constitutional, 
 A EIGHT, oh Lord, from thee ; 
 
 Our DUTY, men thus to inthrall, 
 A CRIME to set them free ; 
 
 And with our ofierings coined from blood, 
 
 Before thy altar we have stood, 
 
 And cried, with sanctimonious face, 
 " Behold, oh Lord, we bring 
 
 These tithes, extorted, by thy grace, 
 From liuman suffering. 
 
 Accept the tribute soaked in gore, 
 
 And bless us now as heretofore !" 
 
182 
 
 HYMN FOR THANKSGIVING DAY 
 
 Hark ! God responds in thunder tones 
 
 Of fierce and raging Avars ; 
 Our plains deformed with human bones; 
 
 Our sons witli wounds and scars; 
 Inflicling woes on every hand, 
 Fell Desolation stalks the land I 
 
 Oh God, forgive us ! Low in dust 
 
 Thy mercy we implore ; 
 In thee, thee only, is our trust, 
 
 Thy smile to us restore ; 
 Make us and our great country free, 
 And all the glory be to thee. 
 
 'T is done ! We bless thee that, at length. 
 
 The raging plague is stayed ; 
 That thou hast risen in thy strength, 
 
 In niMJesty arrayed. 
 And, through thy servant, hast proclaimed 
 An act tliat maketh not ashamed. 
 
HTMISr FOR THANKSGIVING DAY. 183 
 
 Oh Lord, for this accept our praise; 
 
 For tliis we raise the song . 
 Grant Abraham Lincoln length of days, 
 
 His arm make firm and strong ; 
 And generations yet unborn 
 Shall bless thee each Thanksgiving morn ! 
 
E P I T H A L A M I U M, 
 
 On the Marriage of Maj. Gen. John A. McClernand to Miss Minerva 
 Dunlap, at Jacksonrille, 111., December 23, 1862. 
 
 Inscribed to Mrs. McClernand. 
 
 Lo, Hymen, with his torch divine, 
 With happy omen — sacred rite, 
 True lovers deigneth to unite ; 
 Bright Venus and the Loves attend, 
 The Graces too their presence lend, 
 
 And Hebe pours the wine. 
 
 'Tis happy when the brave and fair 
 
 Thus join with heart in hand. 
 
 When sympathy draws close the band ; 
 
 When virtue, wisdom's mild control, 
 
 Blends with true love in each true soul, 
 
 And finds its treasure tliere. 
 16 
 
186 EPITIIALAMIUM. 
 
 Then doubly happy be the hour 
 When Mars and Venus meet; 
 Tliat union must be strong and sweet 
 Where beauty, wisdom, grace and truth, 
 In matchless form and blooming youth, 
 
 Unite with worth and power. 
 
 " The brave alone deserve the fair," 
 
 Was said in days of old ; 
 
 A truth our own age has retold 
 
 In many an epos yet unsung, 
 
 Which Fame's undying, ceaseless tongue 
 Will waft upon the air. 
 
 Yes ! she will sing through all the worhl, 
 In each succeeding age. 
 And paint on the historic page 
 The record of McCleiiiand's deeds, 
 'Gainst those by whom his country bleeds, 
 
 Who fierce deliance hurled. 
 
EriTHALAMIUM. 187 
 
 Who first ill Congress raised his voice 
 
 Against the rebel bam1, 
 
 And for his country took his stand, 
 
 Regardless of the frenzied cries 
 
 Of traitors,, linked by party ties^ 
 His country his first choice. 
 
 And having, in her sacred cause, 
 Exhausted eloquence. 
 As Chatham's manly, bold, intense, 
 Such as might rival TuUy's fame, 
 Or old Demosthenes' pure flame, 
 
 No longer stood to pause, 
 
 But o'er the toga girt the sword. 
 
 And boldly took the field. 
 
 Determined not to shrink nor yield ; 
 
 And Belmont's fiery fray can teU — 
 
 And Sliiloh, Donelson, how well 
 He kept his plighted word. 
 
188 EPITHALAMIUM. 
 
 And thou, Minerva, didst regard, 
 With woman's faithful eyes, 
 Tliy licro struggling for the prize ; 
 His country first to save, lie strove, 
 And thus secure thy n(>l>le love, 
 
 And lo, his rich reward ' 
 
 Both prizes crown his laurelled brow! 
 
 Both triumphs he hath won ! 
 
 The fight which hath been well begun 
 
 Is certain of a glorious end ; 
 
 Minerva, be h.is help and friend, 
 Henceforth, as then and now ! 
 
LILY BELLE 
 
 An Angel came beneath our roof to dwell, 
 So fair was she, we named her Lily Belle ; 
 She won all hearts — we loved her, oh, how well! 
 
 Her form was clotlied in every winmng grace; 
 Pure love was mirrored in her radiant face. 
 Where all the budding virtues we could trace. 
 
 And oh, tlie luster of hor matcliless eyes. 
 Which flaslied upon the soul a strange surprise 
 Earth's violets blent with azure of tlie skies ! 
 
 The ricli luxuriance of her golden hair 
 V^eiled, like a cloud, her brow and bosom fair, 
 Or streamed in wavelets to the breezy air. 
 
190 LILY r.ELLE. 
 
 Each day she grew in wisdom more and more ; 
 
 Her tiny feet made music on our tioor ; 
 
 Her voice liad tliriiled our souls full oft before. 
 
 I)Ut ah! some sentinel at IleaA'en's gate, 
 
 Whose eye was keen, whose love was i)assiiig great. 
 
 Had seen our fair, and wooed her foi- Ids mate. 
 
 Our Lily drooped her head upon her breast ; 
 She seemed to pine for some bright vision blest ; 
 Then looked .vdieu, and sped to love and rest. 
 
 She 's left us desolate. The strife is o'er ; 
 Her spouse receives her on yon heavenly shore, 
 Where we shall join her soon — to part no more ! 
 
 I 
 
THE IMPENDING BATTLE. 
 
 That thrilling sound! It is tlie bnglu"s breath, 
 
 Which wakes our hosts to victory or deatli ! 
 
 The drum beats hjud " To arms !"' the sokliers start, 
 
 And seize their weapons with a bounding heart; 
 
 Their dreams of home and hjved ones distant far, 
 
 Yiehl to the stern reahties of war. 
 
 Ah I wliich can tell if Sol's all-cheering ray 
 
 For him shall gild the scene another day? 
 
 Ah ! which can tell if eve's soft shade shall steep 
 
 His sense in Nature's, or in Death's cold sleep ! 
 
 And lo ! their bayonets glance in morning's light, 
 And sweet Aurora sluidders at the sight ; 
 A gloomy hoiTor palls each mortal sense, 
 And e'en the river murmurs in suspense. 
 
192 THE IMPENDING BATTLE. 
 
 As conscious that, ere night, his hicid flood 
 
 Sh;dl roll deep dyed with liis own children's blood ; 
 
 For two vast hosts, like hostile clouds, advance 
 
 To mei't in civil strife. Their helmets glance, 
 
 An<l wave their plumes, as grass waves in the breeze, 
 
 Kipe for the scythe ; or, like the forest trees 
 
 Ere winter sweeps them bare. And now beliold. 
 
 They stand erect, their arms like burnished gold, 
 
 J3riii;ht a-leamincj in the sun — a ojallant siirht, 
 
 Did patriotism their souls as one unite 
 
 In the great cause of Right and Liberty, 
 
 For then the world combined they might defy; 
 
 But ah ! lament with me the fatal day. 
 
 When mad ambition led his <lupes astray ! 
 
 See, bearing messengers from rank to rank. 
 Fleet steeds are hurrying ; and the fi-equent clank 
 
 Of swoi-ds is heard, as jiids []y swift along; 
 Around dark tubes of death behold a tiii-ong 
 Of wan-iois cluster — there they ready stand, 
 Each cannoiiier a lighted torch in hand, 
 
THE IMrEXDIXG BATTLE. 193 
 
 To fire the fatal train that instant hurls 
 Destruction in its track ! Our host unfurls 
 The glorious Stars and Stripes ; while theu's displays 
 That emblem which deceives wliile it betrays : 
 The stillness that precedes the storm is there, 
 Till hark ! our chieftain's voice rings on the morning 
 air: 
 
 " Soldiers and fellow citizens :" he cried, 
 
 " This day the fate of millions will decide ! 
 
 This day you must make good your country's claim 
 
 To Freedom, or renounce the Freeman's name ! 
 
 Behold the foe arrayed before your eyes ; 
 
 There foul Rebellion stands without disguise; 
 
 There Treason midst a horde of despots stalks, 
 
 And shameless there the frequent Arnold walks, 
 
 And simulates of man the noble heart, 
 
 As if prej^ared to act the hero's part ; 
 
 As if the perjured wretch, the dastard knave, 
 
 (Only in lies and deeds of darkness brave,) 
 
 Could awe the patriot's soul or strike him down. 
 
 When he can scarcely hide his scathing frown, 
 17 
 
194 THE IMPENDING BATTLE. 
 
 His fiery glance — then how shall he withstand 
 His lii^lUninor bolt or his red flamiiiLC briind? 
 
 Let this great truth be on your minds impressed, 
 The bravest man is he whose cause is best; 
 For he whose cause will not endure the sun, 
 May fight a while, but in the en«l must, run, 
 Or yield his dastard life a worthless prize ; 
 He cannot long sustain his dark disguise; 
 His gasconade will burst in thinnest air; 
 And all his native baseness be l.iid bare ; 
 Himself a mere poltroon ! Despair alone 
 Dictates the traitors' course, and drives them on 
 To swift destruction. Lo, within their lines, 
 The thief in stolen splendor blushless shines ; 
 The robber and the assassin point the gun? 
 Stolen from the mother, at her loyal sons ! 
 There the marauder and the pirate stand 
 Prepared to \vnste and plunder this fair land ; 
 jMurder her sons, her daughters force to shame; 
 And bring disgrace on her unsullied name. 
 
THE IMPENDING BATTLE. 195 
 
 Was it for this our Western world was won 
 From ocean's wave ? redeemed by Washington ? 
 Her institutions by high Heaven inspired ? 
 Her sons by patriot flame so nobly fired 
 To deeds of daring, glorious and sublime, 
 As any on the scroll of bygone time? 
 That British tyrants quailed before their frown ; 
 And the whole earth still echoes their renown ! 
 And shaU you yield the prize your fathers won ? 
 And shall each godlike sire disown his son. 
 As base, degenerate ? 'By the eternal,' no ! 
 While one sole arm remains to strike the blow ! 
 
 [Cheers.] 
 
 I hail that hearty cheer — that stern reply ; 
 *' No I ' by the Eternal !' we prefer to die !" 
 You feel your sires' great spirits hov'ring near, 
 Who gaze intently on their sons' career ; 
 Nay, all the ages which have passed away 
 Look down from Heaven upon our deeds this day, 
 To mark us worthy our illustiious sires ; 
 Whose souls nor death, nor tribulatiou's fires, 
 
196 THE IMPENDING BATTLE. 
 
 Nor summer's heat, nor want, nor winter's cold, 
 Could e'er subdue. And not alone the old, 
 But Nations yet unborn, and times remote, 
 Sliall scan our record and our actions note, 
 To our eternal glory or our shame, 
 As worthy of the slave's or hero's name! 
 
 If in the humblest of our sires who died 
 For Liberty, we take an honest pride ; 
 Our deeds this day to our posterity 
 The source of true nobility shall be ! 
 Our children's children shall take pride to say, 
 * Our grandsires bled for liberty that day. 
 When cruel despots had in vain combined 
 The limbs of our young Liberty to bind !' 
 
 Then let us swear to die before we yield 
 One inch of ground, or quit the glorious field; 
 Their numbers will not shield the slaves from liarm; 
 'T is Right alone that nerves the pati-iot's arm ; 
 
THE IMPENDING BATTLE. 197 
 
 And conscious that their cause is base, unjust, 
 
 How can false traitors look to Heaven in trust? 
 
 Does any here for country fear to die ? 
 
 Now is the time for such to turn and fly, 
 
 Nor act like thousands in a former fight. 
 
 Who turned their recreant backs in shameful flis^ht. 
 
 And ran when none pursued. Should such again 
 
 Disgrace our country or its glory stain. 
 
 May God confound him ! and may outraged Heaven 
 
 Blast his foul soul too black to be forgiven ! 
 
 May blight fall on his field ; rot on his flock ; 
 
 And may his loved one's heart to hitn be rock ; 
 
 Him may good men and matrons treat with scorn ; 
 
 The youth and maidens shun — the urchins spurn ; 
 
 Till loathing that vile life his fears would save, 
 
 He hopes, but hopes in vain, a coward's grave ; 
 
 And torn by fell remorse — by men forgot, 
 
 He sinks to earth, and there is left to rot. 
 
 Or if remembered, let base infamy 
 
 Prey on his name in his posterity ; 
 
 And let his race be cursed upon the earth; 
 
 Their homeless heads unblest by roof or hearth ; 
 
198 THE IMPENDING BATTLE. 
 
 May they as outcasts through the world be driven, 
 Despised by men, disowned by God and Heaven! 
 
 But you who feel the patriot flame run high 
 And burn your bosoms, can you fear to die? 
 No, no ! Your country calls ; and you rejoice 
 To yield up all, obedient to her voice ; 
 Oh, your reward shall be a glorious one ; 
 The hero's death is endless life bei»:un. 
 
 But should you live to see this flag unfurled, 
 The hope once more and glory of the world ; 
 What joy and bliss await you in that hour. 
 When Freedom shall again assert her power ; 
 And treason sink from its bad eminence : 
 Then shall the triumph of our race commence ; 
 Then man redeemed, erect, shall walk abroad 
 On earth, and raise his grateful heart to God ! 
 Now, soldiers, mark — By Ilim who rules on high, 
 I swear to conquer here, or here to die !" 
 
THE IMPENDING BATTLE. 199 
 
 And all respond — " By Him wlio rules on high, 
 We swear to coiiquer hero, or here to die !" 
 
 And there tliey stand unmoved, a Godlike band, 
 Prepared to die, or save their Fatherland ! 
 And let us pray, May they sustain the fight — 
 'T is God's own cause : May he defend the Right ! 
 
THE PRESIDENT'S WOOING 
 
 March, 1865 
 
 Our orb, once again, in her waltzing, hath run 
 Her annual conrse round her lover, the Sun; 
 And, friends, on this day, while I greet you again, 
 Let us hope the past year has not been spent in vain ; 
 Let us hope that its record for ever will shine 
 In its own bright effulgence, a beacon divine, 
 To tlie Rulers and Peoples at home and abroad 
 Proclaiming that mercy is pleasing to God ! 
 That a nation which free would remain, must be just, 
 And in God and his truth place their hope and. their 
 
 trust ; 
 Turn away from the evil and tend more and more, 
 To virtue and light, and their great Source adore ; 
 Till wrong in our world be for ever repressed, 
 And rehgion and. charity rule in each breast; 
 
202 THE president's wooing. 
 
 Till, at lengtli, our fuii- land, pinged from slavery's 
 
 dross, 
 Shall be chastened and meekly bow down at the 
 
 cross; 
 Where all can exclaim, unrestricted and free, 
 " Behold, Lord, we offer true incense to thee, 
 The hearts of the noble, the gen'rons and brave, 
 Who have purged their loved soil of the desjjot and 
 
 slave ; 
 Those harpies, ill-omened, whit-li never again 
 Sliall pollute our Republic — its banner shall slain; 
 Whose croakings of virtue proc-laim the death-knell. 
 And wdiose discord gives joy to the demons of hell !" 
 
 Ah ! did we imagine we ever could build 
 
 A tower on such basis? or, that we could gild 
 
 Its rottenness so as to make it apj)ear, 
 
 A f<jrtress in dangei- — a refuge from fear? 
 
 It' by such delusions our hearts have been held, 
 
 'Tis time such delusions from them were expelled; 
 
THE president's WOOING. 203 
 
 For God, ill his Word, h.ath proclaimed, that not 
 
 MIGHT 
 
 Could biiild up a nation, but virtue and right ! 
 
 But, what have we witnessed — ? A people so blind. 
 As to worship all wealth, save the wealth of tlie 
 
 mind ! 
 So that Israel was not so demented, by half. 
 When forgetful of God, he fell down to a calf. 
 Yes ! Gold was our idol, our hope and our all. 
 And so we could clutch it, the Heavens might f^lll ; 
 By this mighty Juggernaut nerves must be crushed. 
 While the cries and the groans of the tortured were 
 
 hushed ; 
 As the Suttee's were drowned by the songs of the 
 
 priest. 
 Who averred that her bliss by her pangs was 
 
 increased ; 
 And the vulgar were taught to believe that the pain 
 Of the martyr was pleasure, her torture was gain ; 
 
204 
 
 So we, every day, with indifterence gazed 
 
 On the pile which witli heaps of humanity blazed ; 
 
 While the })riests of the temple cried out: '' Do n't 
 
 you see, 
 IIow blest tlieir condition ? They would not be free. 
 No, not if you oifered them empires, as pay, 
 Would they make an exchange, so contented are they; 
 So joyous, so happy, so pleased with their state, 
 That to free them were madness — a tempting of 
 
 fate! 
 AVhat are nerves, what is muscle, what bruises and 
 
 blood, 
 Compai'ed with our gains ? Merest foam on the flood ! 
 Let nerves writiie in torture, blood flow in a tide, 
 Their sura serves to swell the vast stream of our 
 
 pride !" 
 Thus, like those who partook of the lotus of old. 
 We were lulled in a trance — but our lotus was orokl ! 
 
 Then we saw splendid visions unfold to our eyes. 
 All earlli as our empire, fenced round by the skies; 
 
THE PRESIDEXT S WOOIXG. 205 
 
 And all this domain a vast paradise spread 
 For those wlio liad slaves to supply them in bread ; 
 Where each in abusing his shive shoiihl find bliss ; 
 And the bondsman should crave no more glory than 
 
 this ; 
 To serve, to obey, and all torture endure, 
 If he for his master this joy could secure, 
 A sensual Paradise, crammed to excess 
 With all that gross nature can ])a!nper or bless ; 
 And, happily, tree from wliatever might bind 
 The passions iu chains, or enlighten the mind ! 
 
 Such, such was our vision, our beautiful dream ! 
 Ah ! why did it flee with the moi-niug's first beam ? 
 All ! what was our horror, on waking, to view 
 Strange objects before us — a landscape quiie new; 
 Our Paradise swept by a plague, and replaced 
 By two armies in hostile array on a waste ! 
 Before them was Plenty, but Ruin alone 
 Stalked behind, and claimed all they should leave as 
 his own. 
 
206 THE president's wooixg. 
 
 Tims tlie whirlwind we reap from our sowing the wind, 
 And a harvest of steel from the dragon's teeth find. 
 
 And hark to that sound ! 't is the deafening peal 
 
 Of the cannon and musket, the clash of the steel! 
 
 War, Pestilence, Famine, apj^ear on tlie st;ige, 
 
 Led on and incited by Fury and Rage ; 
 
 Peace flies in confusion, and earth is bereft 
 
 Of all hope, while a trace of the Dragon is left! 
 
 But Heaven unto mortals in mercy is kind, 
 
 And has scattered that seed, like the chaff by the 
 
 wind ; 
 And it never again shall take root in our soil, 
 To mock the slave's tortures and scoflT at his toil. 
 Its doom was pronounced in the year that is passed. 
 And 'tis hoped that the present will look on its last; 
 For though it was strong in its death agony ; 
 The decree is gone forth — it is doomed — it must 
 
 die! 
 
THE president's WOOING. 207 
 
 Your Poet while soaring on Pegasus' wing, 
 Having prophesied thus, will descend and will sing 
 A song, (for he ever must something be doing,) 
 And that song shall be named — what ? 
 
 THE president's WOOING. 
 
 Chorus — 
 
 The President has gone to woo ; 
 
 Heigh, ho, the wooing o't ! 
 
 Oh, say, what course will he pursue 
 
 To tame the wanton, wayward shrew? 
 
 (Not one alone, but all the crew;) 
 There's merit in the doing o't ! 
 
 But hark ! fair Columbia is wailing. 
 
 What sorrow has called forth her tears ? 
 
 Are her sighs and her sobs unavailing, 
 To calm her forebodino;s and fears ? 
 
208 THK PRESIDENTS WOOING. 
 
 Slie gloomily sits there lamenting 
 
 Her daugliters, because " they are not," 
 
 While their sisters are deeply repenting 
 Those acts which cannot be forujot. 
 
 Ilark I she calls " Carolina " — no answer ! 
 
 " Alabama and Georgia and all ;" 
 They are gone, as a prey to some cancer. 
 
 Or frenzy — ! They heed not her call 1 
 
 She counts o'er the stars on her banner, 
 (The star-spangled banner of yore,) 
 
 One third are fallen off or grown wanner ; 
 She knows it — she loves it no more ! 
 
 She exclaims : " Can I trust to my senses? 
 
 Have a few short years only passed by ; 
 Or have centuries worn our defenses, 
 
 Or the sun gone astray in the sky? 
 
THE PRESIDENT S WOOING. 209 
 
 With Italy must we change places? 
 
 Th' insulted and torn shall we be — 
 The ' Neobe, now, of the Nations,' 
 
 While she is ' Tlie home of the free ?' 
 
 The Union, the Union is broken ! 
 
 Do I dream ? Alas, no ! Woe is me I 
 'T is too true ! and this flag is a token ; 
 
 I lament for the Land of the Free !" 
 
 Wake up, fair Columbia, from sleeping ; 
 
 Your dream is sore troubled, no doubt ; 
 For your daughters you 've vainly been weeping, 
 
 They are not gone dead — just gone out ! 
 
 They had heard of some change in the fashion, 
 
 Or something gone wrong in that line ; 
 
 No wonder they got in a passion. 
 
 Concerning their loved crinoline I 
 18 
 
210 THE president's WOOING. 
 
 And tlieii, some unscrupulous fellows 
 
 Had told them their eights were assailed ; 
 
 So the spirited dnmsels grew jealous. 
 And passion, not reason, prevailed. 
 
 And their lover long tried to persuade them 
 That their anger was kindled in vain ; 
 
 " Their rights — he dreamt not to invade them, 
 Nor their honor to sully or stain !" 
 
 But tliey would not listen to reason, 
 Their fury could not be appeased ; 
 
 So they rose in their might, (call it treason,) 
 And the pants they with violence seized ; 
 
 And swore, in their wrath, they would wear them 
 Until all their wrongs were redressed ; 
 
 But Abe, quite unwilling to spare them, 
 To regain them, now fawned and finessed. 
 
211 
 
 But they would not yet yield to persuasion, 
 And so he tried gentle restraint, 
 
 Sought a trysting, (tliey called it invasion,) 
 Where each might prefer a complaint. 
 
 So they met him at Bull Run one morning, 
 And tugged pretty hard for the prize ; 
 
 Gave Abe and his friends striking warning. 
 By slapping them over the eyes ! 
 
 And Abe now cried out in a passion, 
 
 " The jades scratch in earnest, that's flat!" 
 
 Commanded his henchmen to dash on, 
 And give them, right sharp, tit for tat ! 
 
 So at Henry, at Donelson, Shiloh, 
 Port Arkansas, Champion Hill, 
 
 Port Gibson, Big Black, in grand style, oh I 
 He ground them like grist in the mill. . 
 
212 THE president's wooing. 
 
 At Vicksburg, Pea-Ridge and Stone River, 
 
 At Charleston, Richmond and all, 
 He caused them to shake and to shiver, 
 
 And humbly for quarter to call. 
 
 And see, they are meekly returning; 
 
 Their tresses gleam bright in the sun ; 
 With blushes their fair cheeks are burning ; 
 
 They look like young brides wooed and won ! 
 
 And lo ! by their side yon bold suitor, 
 The rail spHtting youth ; but, pray, hush ! 
 
 No chap than Abe Lincoln is 'cuter. 
 Their hearts he has mauled into mush! 
 
 And behold their bright eyes, liow they glisten 1 
 Two stars some bring back, place of one ; 
 
 Abe gabs, while they smile as they listen ; 
 The rail splitter's work is well done ! 
 
THE PRESIDENT S WOOING. 213 
 
 Hurrah for the Union, tlio Union ! 
 
 They 're " wooed and wedded and a' " 
 Hencefortli we claim joyful coninmnion, 
 
 Hail friendsliip, love, liberty, law ! 
 
 CnoBUS — 
 
 I 
 
 The President has ceased to woo, 
 Heigh, ho, the wooing o't ! 
 It boots not how he tamed the shrew, 
 (Not one, but all the wayward crew ;) 
 Petruchio-like or Royal Jew — 
 
 There 's merit in the doing o't ! 
 
THE RETURN OF PEACE. 
 
 A S O NXE T. 
 Zeffiro torna, e il bel tt-nipo rimena. — PKXBARcn. 
 
 Now balmy Spring returns; and in her train 
 The Graces dance — the Ilaniadiyads sing; 
 Gay Progne twitters softly 'inidst the strain ; 
 The robin and the bluebird prate of Spring;- 
 The clouds disperse — bright Heaven smiles again; 
 Jove glories in his daughter's faery wing; 
 Love holds o'er earth, sea, air, his hap})y i-eign ; 
 All living creatures crown him for their king: 
 Then why should men alone be doomed to sigh? 
 The winter of our grief will soon be }»;ist; 
 We hail the gentle zephyrs floating by ; 
 The storm of war has well-nigh blown its last: 
 Rebellion shattered never more shall rise ; 
 Hcncef )rth the cherub, Peace, shall gild our clou<l- 
 less skies ! 
 
TO MY DAUGHTER, FLORENCE, 
 
 On her Bibthday, January 19. 
 
 The groat Disposer, in his wise decree, 
 Has fixed a tmie for all to live and die; 
 And circumscribed, by vast eternity, 
 
 Our lives, as islands in a boundless sea. 
 
 Witliout our knowledge or consent we rose 
 
 From out this wondrous night, we know not how; 
 In weakness then — in bloom and vigor now, 
 
 But soon in gloom our brief career to close. 
 
 The space allotted is a changeful scene 
 Of thought and feeling in life's theatre, 
 Whereon to fret and fum^^ a while; and here 
 
 Our acts are judged by critics stei-n and keen. 
 
216 TO FLORENCE. 
 
 But, though the subjects of a just control, 
 We are not, therefore, slaves of despot, Fate, 
 To rule us with an iron hand elate ; 
 
 We glory in the freedom of tlie soul ! 
 
 Then, Florence, think, that as our actions are, 
 So shall our hopes of future glory be ; 
 That soul alone is truly blest and free, 
 
 Whose guide on earth is virtue's polar'star. 
 
WORKS BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 
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