I.
Ah! who recalls the dark, unhallowed deeds
Which mark the sterner ages long gone by,
Nor starts at wrongs o'er which the heart still bleeds
When despots reigned, and bade their victims die,
And vainly flowed the tear from Pity's eye?
Though ours an age that's brighter, happier far,
Yet half mankind still bow, they know not why,
To sceptred power, or creeds they dare not mar;
Nor yet perceive the light that beams from Freedom's star.
II.
But why despair. There lives a spark divine
Within man's breast, surviving earth and tears;
And, where the moral virtues rear their shrine,
There heart to heart the social tie endears;
While Hope, whose star illumes the coming years,
Inspires with loftier aims and nobler zeal
Man's faith in man, and dissipates his fears,
And nerves his arm to strike 'mid clashing steel
For God and Truth, though empires to their centres reel.
III.
With smiling brow, and lip that breathed of peace,
From Eden's sheltering bowers nymph-like she came,
Nor found a genial clime, until in Greece
She there of yore acquired a glorious name, —
Freedom, whose pilgrimage is still of fame,
And 'neath whose banner heroes fought and bled,
Hurling the tyrants down to dust and shame
Who scourged the land in which the Arts were bred,
The land where still enshrined repose the mighty dead!
IV.
In that illustrious age when Athens shone,
And men the powers of earth and air adored,
There breathed a martial spirit now unknown;
And long, with unclipped wing, that spirit soared,
While human breasts with high resolves were stored,
And valiant deeds were done of great renown;
An age in which mankind preferred the sword,
And heroes strove to cleave stern heroes down,
Nor yet appeased the gods, who swayed by smile or frown.
V.
Then came an age as sparkling as its wine,
With mysteries which took the form of creeds,
And vows were paid at many an honored shrine,
While passion swayed the heart, and moral weeds,
Like noxious plants that broadcast sow their seeds,
Struck deep in genial soil, and ranklier grew;
Yet gods conversed with men, and Faith, that heeds
The marvellous, believed, howe'er untrue,
The dark responses which from unseen lips she drew.
VI.
Temples, from heights revered, o'erlooked the plain;
And patient Art, endowed with magic powers,
Gave unto Parian marble life and brain,
And sympathies which link the circling hours
Of time with classic beauty and with flowers;
Symbols which still attract our wondering eyes,
And still recall the listening groves and bowers
Where sages calmly walked in humble guise,
And held discourse with youth, and taught them to be wise.
VII.
And thus devout the philosophic Greek,
Who loved his templed hills and sunny vales,
Bequeathed to man, with spirit ever meek,
Doctrines profound whose logic still entails
Its wealth, — a power that will, till blight assails
The earth, expand, and chasten human thought;
And yet how saddening were the hopeless wails
Uttered of old, when cruel deeds were wrought,
And tyrants gave command, and faith was sold and bought!
VIII.
Yet he who aimed at empire ne'er had dreamed,
When Rome's foundations were by him begun,
What lasting glory o'er him distant streamed
The while his warlike deeds were nobly done,
And stratagem the Sabine women won;
But when the city from her throne of hills
Beheld her fire-eyed eagles pierce the sun,
She seized on power that does whate'er it wills,
Nor kept her plighted faith, nor heeded human ills.
IX.
Still, in her better days, stern men were bred, —
Patriots who loved their country but too well,
And who unawed the flame of Freedom fed,
Till luxury and vice, with conquering spell,
Crept in, and fearful woes the state befell.
And yet the Eternal City lives, though shorn
Of ancient power, her name and fame to tell;
While 'mid her ruins shadows stalk forlorn,
And point at her degenerate sons with silent scorn.
X.
Alas! with all his pride and pomp and power,
The law of love nor Greek nor Roman knew:
Though martial glory crowned his triumph hour
'Mid trophies which attracted public view,
Though oft proclaimed a hero brave and true,
'Twas not enough; for his ambition's aim
Still fired his soul, as still the sword he drew;
And thus led on by that enchantress, Fame,
He sought to rank with gods, and craved a deathless name.
XI.
Freedom, whose cradle was the fearful storm,
As ages rolled, and darkness slow retired,
Maintained her faith, and, with affections warm,
Became at length of holier truths inspired,
And, clad in sacred armor, never tired,
But still, with frenzied eye and proud disdain,
Repelled her foes, and won a fame desired;
Nor from her shield erased the crimson stain,
But wide, and wider still, extended her domain.
XII.
And men grew wiser, better, as the flame
On Freedom's altar burned with clearer light;
And though dark years with darker errors came,
And fierce crusades with hate and venomed spite,
Though many a hero, mail-clad, fell in fight,
Yet Christian temples rose to bless the land,
While truth prevailed by force of moral might;
And, as the slumbering fires of faith were fanned,
E'en mitred priest at last relaxed his grasping hand.
XIII.
And moral heroes, weaned from mystic fear,
Flung off disguise, and strove with iron will
Their favorite creeds to herald far and near:
Yet strife begat but strife, with woes that chill
The manliest heart, 'mid scenes of glen and hill,
Where many a martyr, rash in conflict, fell,
And tinged with crimson flowed the mountain rill;
And where, 'mid desolation's brooding spell,
The spirit of the past, still ruthless, seems to dwell.
XIV.
'Twas thus, in proudest lands of earlier time,
When Freedom held at best imperfect sway,
That seeds were sown, which yet in every clime
Will spring to life as dawns the genial day,
When kings retire, and slavish creeds give way.
But when from Europe sailed her daring son,
Who sought and found in all its wild array
A Western world, how great the blessing won!
How great in years which yet shall in their circles run!
XV.
What though in later times the queenly isle,
That jealous mistress of the treasured sea,
Assumed an unrelenting power the while,
And bade her subjects bend a suppliant knee;
What though she did not leave opinions free:
There lived stern men e'en then, an honest few,
Who, taught by conscience, ever scorned to be
The dupes of royal pride; their rights they knew,
And, knowing them, remained to God and Freedom true.
XVI.
The Puritans, so called with meaning sneer,
Had struggled long and daringly, though vain,
Against the sceptre's scourge: nor ceased they here;
For Hope had flung her rainbow o'er the main,
And pointed to a land without a stain.
But still the pure affections of the heart
Endeared to them the mountain and the plain,
Their native clime, from which 'twas hard to part,
And leave their fathers' graves for wilds where terrors start.
XVII.
Yet when relentless wrong hath nerved the arm,
And stirred the soul, and waked the spirit there,
Men break their chains; nor can the tyrant calm
The rising storm, nor curb the brave who dare
Defend their dearest rights with bosoms bare.
How blest the world when tyranny shall yield
To stern reform, and all the nations share
A purer faith, and, trusting in the shield
Of virtue, see a manhood nobler yet revealed!
XVIII.
The Pilgrims now convened on ocean's strand,
And knelt to Heaven, yet lingered long to gaze
On friends and skies they loved, like Israel's band
Whose pathway was the sea in ancient days.
The parting hour had come: beneath the blaze
Of autumn's sun they bade a last farewell
To Britain's isle, and launched without amaze
Upon the billowy deep where dangers dwell,
And spread their sails to winds that sighed o'er ocean's swell.
XIX.
Westward the star of empire took its way,
Destined to glow within a broader sky,
And flash with light which yet shall fling its ray
Afar o'er earth's domain where shadows lie,
Inspiring hope and joy that will not die.
Yes, with a faith which gave them faith in man,
Heroes upon that star now fixed their eye,
And in the future saw the God-like plan
Which God himself had traced, as on they led the van.
XX.
Hope gave them cheer, and " waved her golden hair. "
Onward the voyagers ploughed the trackless sea,
'Mid storm and tempest and the lightning's glare,
Resolved to bend to none but God the knee.
And after many days they joyed to see
Columbia's hills; nor yielded to the shock
When woodlands rang with shouts of savage glee;
But calm and trustful still that Pilgrim flock
Now disembarked, and consecrated Plymouth Rock;
XXI.
The rock that's firmly planted by the sea,
Prescribing bounds where proudest waves are stayed;
The landmark which was set to liberty
When earth's foundations broad and deep were laid;
The rock on which erst stepped the Pilgrim maid
Who led the way with smiles that ever cheer;
The spot that's guarded still by Freedom's blade;
Where oft the patriot drops a grateful tear,
And breathes the honored names of those who slumber near, —
XXII.
Names that will live when centuries depart,
And still in moral virtue faith inspire,
And back to many a patriot's throbbing heart
Respond with balmy lip, as child to sire,
Waking within the soul the hallowed fire
That ever prompts the brave, who dare reclaim
Their Heaven-born rights, despite the tyrant's ire.
'Twas here the Pilgrims reared with purest aim
Altars to God, and lit them up with Freedom's flame.
XXIII.
Though girt with forests and a mountain chain
Whose slopes and glens, and secret caverns dark,
Had ever been the red man's wild domain,
The Pilgrims clung to hope's expiring spark,
And struggled with their foes, and set the mark
Of empire there on Ocean's circling strand,
And, like the chosen few who left the ark,
Went forth to scatter blessings through the land,
And rear the tree of Liberty with fostering hand.
XXIV.
When Freedom, plumed for glory's bright career,
Had been restrained, there woke a quenchless flame;
And men stood forth, unawed by taunt or sneer,
Who sought the battle-field, and won a name
That will not die, — a proud, immortal fame.
Dread days! when rallying trump and drum were heard,
And traitors bore, like Cain, the mark of shame
Upon their brows; when Britain's ire was stirred,
And e'en the patriot's hope seemed hopelessly deferred.
XXV.
Yet sentiments that flashed from patriot pen
Startled the world, and vexed the royal ear,
And, like a message sent from Heaven to men,
Illumed in eyes, unused to weep, the tear;
The immortal scroll, which freemen still revere,
And all mankind respect, — a trust that's thine
And mine: betray it not, nor yield to fear,
But still make Freedom's cause a cause divine,
And ever pure shall burn the flame that lights her shrine.
XXVI.
'Twas in those days that men of iron nerve
Proved to the world their courage and their worth;
And they were men whom threats nor gold could swerve
From duty, — Nature's noblemen by birth, —
Who in defence of life and cherished hearth,
And altars burning bright with sacred fires,
Poured out their blood upon the crimsoned earth,
A free libation to their high desires,
And love of right, which in the true heart ne'er expires.
XXVII.
And though but few, yet, resolute and strong,
Our banded sires withstood the invading foe,
And, 'neath their country's banner, struggled long,
Led on through varied scenes of blood and woe,
'Mid battle-smoke and cannon's fiery glow,
By him whose gallant deeds were ne'er outdone,
And who at Yorktown struck the final blow:
Glorious as great the triumph which was won
For man, for freedom, and the land of Washington!
XXVIII.
For human weal or woe, sublime the trust
Reposed in those who rule our favored land.
And yet temptations, such as spring from lust
Of power, or love of fame, how few withstand!
How few whose virtues may not be unmanned!
But still there's hope in Freedom's sacred cause,
While firmly leagued the sisterhood shall stand,
And men bear sway who seek not vain applause,
Nor pander to imbittered strife nor bloody wars.
XXIX.
In schools of learning scattered far and wide,
And cherished fanes that skyward lift their spires,
In zeal for truth that's based on virtue's pride,
In brotherhood, and love, and pure desires,
And generous hearts that burn with Freedom's fires,
Consist our country's hope and future weal;
And, while we bless the memory of our sires,
For earth's oppressed still let us kindly feel,
And speed the day when none to tyrant power shall kneel.
Ah! who recalls the dark, unhallowed deeds
Which mark the sterner ages long gone by,
Nor starts at wrongs o'er which the heart still bleeds
When despots reigned, and bade their victims die,
And vainly flowed the tear from Pity's eye?
Though ours an age that's brighter, happier far,
Yet half mankind still bow, they know not why,
To sceptred power, or creeds they dare not mar;
Nor yet perceive the light that beams from Freedom's star.
II.
But why despair. There lives a spark divine
Within man's breast, surviving earth and tears;
And, where the moral virtues rear their shrine,
There heart to heart the social tie endears;
While Hope, whose star illumes the coming years,
Inspires with loftier aims and nobler zeal
Man's faith in man, and dissipates his fears,
And nerves his arm to strike 'mid clashing steel
For God and Truth, though empires to their centres reel.
III.
With smiling brow, and lip that breathed of peace,
From Eden's sheltering bowers nymph-like she came,
Nor found a genial clime, until in Greece
She there of yore acquired a glorious name, —
Freedom, whose pilgrimage is still of fame,
And 'neath whose banner heroes fought and bled,
Hurling the tyrants down to dust and shame
Who scourged the land in which the Arts were bred,
The land where still enshrined repose the mighty dead!
IV.
In that illustrious age when Athens shone,
And men the powers of earth and air adored,
There breathed a martial spirit now unknown;
And long, with unclipped wing, that spirit soared,
While human breasts with high resolves were stored,
And valiant deeds were done of great renown;
An age in which mankind preferred the sword,
And heroes strove to cleave stern heroes down,
Nor yet appeased the gods, who swayed by smile or frown.
V.
Then came an age as sparkling as its wine,
With mysteries which took the form of creeds,
And vows were paid at many an honored shrine,
While passion swayed the heart, and moral weeds,
Like noxious plants that broadcast sow their seeds,
Struck deep in genial soil, and ranklier grew;
Yet gods conversed with men, and Faith, that heeds
The marvellous, believed, howe'er untrue,
The dark responses which from unseen lips she drew.
VI.
Temples, from heights revered, o'erlooked the plain;
And patient Art, endowed with magic powers,
Gave unto Parian marble life and brain,
And sympathies which link the circling hours
Of time with classic beauty and with flowers;
Symbols which still attract our wondering eyes,
And still recall the listening groves and bowers
Where sages calmly walked in humble guise,
And held discourse with youth, and taught them to be wise.
VII.
And thus devout the philosophic Greek,
Who loved his templed hills and sunny vales,
Bequeathed to man, with spirit ever meek,
Doctrines profound whose logic still entails
Its wealth, — a power that will, till blight assails
The earth, expand, and chasten human thought;
And yet how saddening were the hopeless wails
Uttered of old, when cruel deeds were wrought,
And tyrants gave command, and faith was sold and bought!
VIII.
Yet he who aimed at empire ne'er had dreamed,
When Rome's foundations were by him begun,
What lasting glory o'er him distant streamed
The while his warlike deeds were nobly done,
And stratagem the Sabine women won;
But when the city from her throne of hills
Beheld her fire-eyed eagles pierce the sun,
She seized on power that does whate'er it wills,
Nor kept her plighted faith, nor heeded human ills.
IX.
Still, in her better days, stern men were bred, —
Patriots who loved their country but too well,
And who unawed the flame of Freedom fed,
Till luxury and vice, with conquering spell,
Crept in, and fearful woes the state befell.
And yet the Eternal City lives, though shorn
Of ancient power, her name and fame to tell;
While 'mid her ruins shadows stalk forlorn,
And point at her degenerate sons with silent scorn.
X.
Alas! with all his pride and pomp and power,
The law of love nor Greek nor Roman knew:
Though martial glory crowned his triumph hour
'Mid trophies which attracted public view,
Though oft proclaimed a hero brave and true,
'Twas not enough; for his ambition's aim
Still fired his soul, as still the sword he drew;
And thus led on by that enchantress, Fame,
He sought to rank with gods, and craved a deathless name.
XI.
Freedom, whose cradle was the fearful storm,
As ages rolled, and darkness slow retired,
Maintained her faith, and, with affections warm,
Became at length of holier truths inspired,
And, clad in sacred armor, never tired,
But still, with frenzied eye and proud disdain,
Repelled her foes, and won a fame desired;
Nor from her shield erased the crimson stain,
But wide, and wider still, extended her domain.
XII.
And men grew wiser, better, as the flame
On Freedom's altar burned with clearer light;
And though dark years with darker errors came,
And fierce crusades with hate and venomed spite,
Though many a hero, mail-clad, fell in fight,
Yet Christian temples rose to bless the land,
While truth prevailed by force of moral might;
And, as the slumbering fires of faith were fanned,
E'en mitred priest at last relaxed his grasping hand.
XIII.
And moral heroes, weaned from mystic fear,
Flung off disguise, and strove with iron will
Their favorite creeds to herald far and near:
Yet strife begat but strife, with woes that chill
The manliest heart, 'mid scenes of glen and hill,
Where many a martyr, rash in conflict, fell,
And tinged with crimson flowed the mountain rill;
And where, 'mid desolation's brooding spell,
The spirit of the past, still ruthless, seems to dwell.
XIV.
'Twas thus, in proudest lands of earlier time,
When Freedom held at best imperfect sway,
That seeds were sown, which yet in every clime
Will spring to life as dawns the genial day,
When kings retire, and slavish creeds give way.
But when from Europe sailed her daring son,
Who sought and found in all its wild array
A Western world, how great the blessing won!
How great in years which yet shall in their circles run!
XV.
What though in later times the queenly isle,
That jealous mistress of the treasured sea,
Assumed an unrelenting power the while,
And bade her subjects bend a suppliant knee;
What though she did not leave opinions free:
There lived stern men e'en then, an honest few,
Who, taught by conscience, ever scorned to be
The dupes of royal pride; their rights they knew,
And, knowing them, remained to God and Freedom true.
XVI.
The Puritans, so called with meaning sneer,
Had struggled long and daringly, though vain,
Against the sceptre's scourge: nor ceased they here;
For Hope had flung her rainbow o'er the main,
And pointed to a land without a stain.
But still the pure affections of the heart
Endeared to them the mountain and the plain,
Their native clime, from which 'twas hard to part,
And leave their fathers' graves for wilds where terrors start.
XVII.
Yet when relentless wrong hath nerved the arm,
And stirred the soul, and waked the spirit there,
Men break their chains; nor can the tyrant calm
The rising storm, nor curb the brave who dare
Defend their dearest rights with bosoms bare.
How blest the world when tyranny shall yield
To stern reform, and all the nations share
A purer faith, and, trusting in the shield
Of virtue, see a manhood nobler yet revealed!
XVIII.
The Pilgrims now convened on ocean's strand,
And knelt to Heaven, yet lingered long to gaze
On friends and skies they loved, like Israel's band
Whose pathway was the sea in ancient days.
The parting hour had come: beneath the blaze
Of autumn's sun they bade a last farewell
To Britain's isle, and launched without amaze
Upon the billowy deep where dangers dwell,
And spread their sails to winds that sighed o'er ocean's swell.
XIX.
Westward the star of empire took its way,
Destined to glow within a broader sky,
And flash with light which yet shall fling its ray
Afar o'er earth's domain where shadows lie,
Inspiring hope and joy that will not die.
Yes, with a faith which gave them faith in man,
Heroes upon that star now fixed their eye,
And in the future saw the God-like plan
Which God himself had traced, as on they led the van.
XX.
Hope gave them cheer, and " waved her golden hair. "
Onward the voyagers ploughed the trackless sea,
'Mid storm and tempest and the lightning's glare,
Resolved to bend to none but God the knee.
And after many days they joyed to see
Columbia's hills; nor yielded to the shock
When woodlands rang with shouts of savage glee;
But calm and trustful still that Pilgrim flock
Now disembarked, and consecrated Plymouth Rock;
XXI.
The rock that's firmly planted by the sea,
Prescribing bounds where proudest waves are stayed;
The landmark which was set to liberty
When earth's foundations broad and deep were laid;
The rock on which erst stepped the Pilgrim maid
Who led the way with smiles that ever cheer;
The spot that's guarded still by Freedom's blade;
Where oft the patriot drops a grateful tear,
And breathes the honored names of those who slumber near, —
XXII.
Names that will live when centuries depart,
And still in moral virtue faith inspire,
And back to many a patriot's throbbing heart
Respond with balmy lip, as child to sire,
Waking within the soul the hallowed fire
That ever prompts the brave, who dare reclaim
Their Heaven-born rights, despite the tyrant's ire.
'Twas here the Pilgrims reared with purest aim
Altars to God, and lit them up with Freedom's flame.
XXIII.
Though girt with forests and a mountain chain
Whose slopes and glens, and secret caverns dark,
Had ever been the red man's wild domain,
The Pilgrims clung to hope's expiring spark,
And struggled with their foes, and set the mark
Of empire there on Ocean's circling strand,
And, like the chosen few who left the ark,
Went forth to scatter blessings through the land,
And rear the tree of Liberty with fostering hand.
XXIV.
When Freedom, plumed for glory's bright career,
Had been restrained, there woke a quenchless flame;
And men stood forth, unawed by taunt or sneer,
Who sought the battle-field, and won a name
That will not die, — a proud, immortal fame.
Dread days! when rallying trump and drum were heard,
And traitors bore, like Cain, the mark of shame
Upon their brows; when Britain's ire was stirred,
And e'en the patriot's hope seemed hopelessly deferred.
XXV.
Yet sentiments that flashed from patriot pen
Startled the world, and vexed the royal ear,
And, like a message sent from Heaven to men,
Illumed in eyes, unused to weep, the tear;
The immortal scroll, which freemen still revere,
And all mankind respect, — a trust that's thine
And mine: betray it not, nor yield to fear,
But still make Freedom's cause a cause divine,
And ever pure shall burn the flame that lights her shrine.
XXVI.
'Twas in those days that men of iron nerve
Proved to the world their courage and their worth;
And they were men whom threats nor gold could swerve
From duty, — Nature's noblemen by birth, —
Who in defence of life and cherished hearth,
And altars burning bright with sacred fires,
Poured out their blood upon the crimsoned earth,
A free libation to their high desires,
And love of right, which in the true heart ne'er expires.
XXVII.
And though but few, yet, resolute and strong,
Our banded sires withstood the invading foe,
And, 'neath their country's banner, struggled long,
Led on through varied scenes of blood and woe,
'Mid battle-smoke and cannon's fiery glow,
By him whose gallant deeds were ne'er outdone,
And who at Yorktown struck the final blow:
Glorious as great the triumph which was won
For man, for freedom, and the land of Washington!
XXVIII.
For human weal or woe, sublime the trust
Reposed in those who rule our favored land.
And yet temptations, such as spring from lust
Of power, or love of fame, how few withstand!
How few whose virtues may not be unmanned!
But still there's hope in Freedom's sacred cause,
While firmly leagued the sisterhood shall stand,
And men bear sway who seek not vain applause,
Nor pander to imbittered strife nor bloody wars.
XXIX.
In schools of learning scattered far and wide,
And cherished fanes that skyward lift their spires,
In zeal for truth that's based on virtue's pride,
In brotherhood, and love, and pure desires,
And generous hearts that burn with Freedom's fires,
Consist our country's hope and future weal;
And, while we bless the memory of our sires,
For earth's oppressed still let us kindly feel,
And speed the day when none to tyrant power shall kneel.