LINES, WRITTEN on reading the spirited and manly remarks of Governor RITNER, of Pennsylvania, in his Message of 1836, on the subject of Slavery. THANK God for the token!-one lip is still free- Thank God, that one arm from the shackle has broken! O'er thy crags, Alleghany, a blast has been blown! Of Liberty sweetened with Slavery's pain; And the words which he utters are - WORSHIP, OR DIE ! Right onward, oh, speed it! Wherever the blood Comes the sorrowful wail of the broken of heart; Wherever the shackles of tyranny bind, In silence and darkness, the God-given mind; - - And oh, will the land where the free soul of PENN No, RITNER!- her "Friends," at thy warning shall stand - And that bold-hearted yeomanry, honest and true, Which their fathers smote off, on the negro again? *It is a remarkable fact, that the first testimony of a religious body against negro slavery, was that of a Society of German "Friends" in Pennsylvania. No, never! - one voice, like the sound in the cloud, From the Delaware's marge to the Lake of the West, uprisen — awake – Pennsylvania's watchword, with Freedom at stake, Thrilling up from each valley, flung down from each height, "OUR COUNTRY AND LIBERTY!- GOD FOR THE RIGHT!" LINES, WRITTEN on reading the famous "PASTORAL LETTER" of the Massachusetts General Association, 1837. So, this is all-the utmost reach Of priestly power the mind to fetter! a Now, shame upon ye, parish Popes ! Was it thus with those, your predecessors, A "Pastoral Letter," grave and dull- From him who bellows from St. Peter's! And sword of temporal power to serve them. Oh, glorious days when church and state Were wedded by your spiritual fathers! Your Wilsons and your Cotton Mathers. No vile "itinerant " "then could mar The beauty of your tranquil Zion, But at his peril of the scar Of hangman's whip and branding-iron. Then, wholesome laws relieved the church And priest and bailiff joined in search, By turns, of Papist, witch, and Quaker! The gallows-rope, a Quaker woman! Your fathers dealt not as ye deal With "non-professing" frantic teachers; They bored the tongue with red-hot steel, And flayed the backs of "female preachers." Old Newbury, had her fields a tongue, And Salem's streets could tell their story, Of fainting woman dragged along, Gashed by the whip, accursed and gory! And will ye ask me, why this taunt Of memories sacred from the scorner? Of manhood to the scaffold led, And suffering and heroic woman. No for yourselves alone, I turn To silence Freedom's voice of warning, Of Freedom's day around ye dawning; If when an earthquake voice of power, And signs in earth and heaven are showing That, forth, in its appointed hour, The Spirit of the Lord is going! When for the sighing of the poor, And for the needy, God hath risen, And chains are breaking, and a door Is opening for the souls in prison ! If then ye would, with puny hands, Arrest the very work of Heaven, And bind anew the evil bands Which God's right arm of power hath riven What marvel that, in many a mind, Those darker deeds of bigot madness Are closely with your own combined, Yet "less in anger than in sadness?" What marvel, if the people learn To claim the right of free opinion? What marvel, if at times they spurn The ancient yoke of your dominion? Oh, how contrast, with such as ye, A LEAVITT'S free and generous bearing! A PERRY'S calm integrity, A PHELPS' zeal and Christian daring! A FOLLEN'S soul of sacrifice, And MAY's with kindness overflowing! How green and lovely in the eyes Of freemen are their graces growing! Ay, there's a glorious remnant yet, Whose lips are wet at Freedom's fountains, The coming of whose welcome feet Is beautiful upon our mountains! |