And to future conflicts carry Mutual faith and common trust; Always he who most forgiveth in his brother is most just. From the eternal shadow rounding All our sun and starlight here, Bid us be of heart and cheer, Through the silence, down the spaces, falling on the inward ear. Know we not our dead are looking Downward with a sad surprise, All our strife of words rebuking With their mild and loving eyes? Shall we grieve the holy angels? Shall we cloud their blessed skies ? Let us draw their mantles o'er us Which have fallen in our way; Let us do the work before us, Cheerly, bravely, while we may, Ere the long night-silence cometh, and with us it is not day! LINES, FROM A LETTER TO A YOUNG CLERICAL FRIEND. A STRENGTH Thy service cannot tire A faith which doubt can never dim Oh! Freedom's God! be Thou to him! Speak through him words of power and fear, And let a scornful people hear Once more Thy Sinai-thunders rolled. For lying lips Thy blessing seek, And hands of blood are raised to Thee, And on Thy children, crushed and weak, The oppressor plants his kneeling knee. Let then, oh, God! Thy servant dare From hollow rite and narrow span Of law and sect by Thee released, Chase back the shadows, grey and old, The dawn of Thy millenial day; That day when fettered limb and mind Shall know the truth which maketh free, And he alone who loves his kind Shall, child-like, claim the love of Thee! YORKTOWN. [DR. THACHER, surgeon in SCAMMEL's regiment, in his description of the siege of Yorktown, says: "The labor on the Virginia plantations is performed altogether by a species of the human race cruelly wrested from their native country, and doomed to perpetual bondage, while their masters are manfully contending for freedom and the natural rights of man. Such is the inconsistency of human nature." Eighteen hundred slaves were found at Yorktown, after its surrender, and restored to their masters. Well was it said by DR. BARNES, in his late work on Slavery: "No slave was any nearer his freedom after the surrender of Yorktown, than when PATRICK HENRY first taught the notes of liberty to echo among the hills and vales of Virginia."] FROM Yorktown's ruins, ranked and still, The earth which bears this calm array Ploughed deep with hurrying hoof and wheel, Now all is hushed: the gleaming lines While through them, sullen, grim, and slow, Nor thou alone with one glad voice While they who hunt her quail with fear: But who are they, who, cowering, wait Classed with the battle's common spoil, Oh! veil your faces, young and brave! Stout hearts against the bayonet, The moated battery's blazing tier, Turn your scarred faces from the sight, Let shame do homage to the right! Lo! threescore years have passed; and where The Gallic timbrel stirred the air, With Northern drum-roll, and the clear, Wild horn-blow of the mountaineer, While Britain grounded on that plain The arms she might not lift again, As abject as in that old day Oh! fields still green and fresh in story, Old thoughts which stirred the hearts of men, Behold the avenging shadow fall! Your world-wide honor stained with shame. Where's now the flag of that old war? Where flows its stripe? Where burns its star? Bear witness, Palo Alto's day, Dark Vale of Palms, red Monterey, Where Mexic Freedom, young and weak, Symbol of terror and despair, Of chains and slaves, go seek it there! Laugh, Prussia, midst thy iron ranks ! |