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Or what ill planet crossed his prime?
Heart too soft and will too weak To front the fate that crouches near,-- Dove beneath the vulture's beak;-- Will song dissuade the thirsty spear?
Dragged from his mother's arms and breast, Displaced, disfurnished here, His wistful toil to do his best Chilled by a ribald jeer.
Great men in the Senate sate, Sage and hero, side by side, Building for their sons the State, Which they shall rule with pride.
They forbore to break the chain Which bound the dusky tribe, Checked by the owners' fierce disdain, Lured by "Union" as the bribe.
Destiny sat by, and said, 'Pang for pang your seed shall pay, Hide in false peace your coward head, I bring round the harvest-day.'
II.
Freedom all winged expands, Nor perches in a narrow place; Her broad van seeks unplanted lands; She loves a poor and virtuous race.
Clinging to a colder zone Whose dark sky sheds the snow-flake down, The snow-flake is her banner's star, Her stripes the boreal streamers are.
Long she loved the Northman well: Now the iron age is done, She will not refuse to dwell With the offspring of the Sun; Foundling of the desert far, Where palms plume, siroccos blaze, He roves unhurt the burning ways In climates of the summer star.
He has avenues to G.o.d Hid from men of Northern brain, Far beholding, without cloud, What these with slowest steps attain.
If once the generous chief arrive To lead him willing to be led, For freedom he will strike and strive, And drain his heart till he be dead.
III.
In an age of fops and toys, Wanting wisdom, void of right, Who shall nerve heroic boys To hazard all in Freedom's fight,-- Break sharply off their jolly games, Forsake their comrades gay, And quit proud homes and youthful dames, For famine, toil, and fray?
Yet on the nimble air benign Speed nimbler messages, That waft the breath of grace divine To hearts in sloth and ease.
So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is G.o.d to man, When Duty whispers low, _Thou must_, The youth replies, _I can_.
IV.
O, well for the fortunate soul Which Music's wings infold, Stealing away the memory Of sorrows new and old!
Yet happier he whose inward sight, Stayed on his subtile thought, Shuts his sense on toys of time, To vacant bosoms brought.
But best befriended of the G.o.d He who, in evil times, Warned by an inward voice, Heeds not the darkness and the dread, Biding by his rule and choice, Feeling only the fiery thread Leading over heroic ground, Walled with mortal terror round, To the aim which him allures, And the sweet heaven his deed secures.
Stainless soldier on the walls, Knowing this,--and knows no more,-- Whoever fights, whoever falls, Justice conquers evermore, Justice after as before,-- And he who battles on her side, G.o.d, though he were ten times slain, Crowns him victor glorified, Victor over death and pain; Forever: but his erring foe, Self-a.s.sured that he prevails, Looks from his victim lying low, And sees aloft the red right arm Redress the eternal scales.
He, the poor foe, whom angels foil, Blind with pride, and fooled by hate, Writhes within the dragon coil, Reserved to a speechless fate.
V.
Blooms the laurel which belongs To the valiant chief who fights; I see the wreath, I hear the songs Lauding the Eternal Rights, Victors over daily wrongs: Awful victors, they misguide Whom they will destroy, And their coming triumph hide In our downfall, or our joy: They reach no term, they never sleep, In equal strength through s.p.a.ce abide; Though, feigning dwarfs, they crouch and creep, The strong they slay, the swift outstride: Fate's gra.s.s grows rank in valley clods, And rankly on the castled steep,-- Speak it firmly, these are G.o.ds, All are ghosts beside.
LOVE AND THOUGHT.
Two well-a.s.sorted travellers use The highway, Eros and the Muse.
From the twins is nothing hidden, To the pair is naught forbidden; Hand in hand the comrades go Every nook of nature through: Each for other they were born, Each can other best adorn; They know one only mortal grief Past all balsam or relief, When, by false companions crossed, The pilgrims have each other lost.
LOVER'S PEt.i.tION.
Good Heart, that ownest all!
I ask a modest boon and small: Not of lands and towns the gift,-- Too large a load for me to lift,-- But for one proper creature, Which geographic eye, Sweeping the map of Western earth, Or the Atlantic coast, from Maine To Powhatan's domain, Could not descry.
Is't much to ask in all thy huge creation, So trivial a part,-- A solitary heart?
Yet count me not of spirit mean, Or mine a mean demand, For 't is the concentration And worth of all the land, The sister of the sea, The daughter of the strand, Composed of air and light, And of the swart earth-might.
So little to thy poet's prayer Thy large bounty well can spare.
And yet I think, if she were gone, The world were better left alone.
UNA.
Roving, roving, as it seems, Una lights my clouded dreams; Still for journeys she is dressed; We wander far by east and west.
In the homestead, homely thought; At my work I ramble not; If from home chance draw me wide, Half-seen Una sits beside.
In my house and garden-plot, Though beloved, I miss her not; But one I seek in foreign places, One face explore in foreign faces.
At home a deeper thought may light The inward sky with chrysolite, And I greet from far the ray, Aurora of a dearer day.
But if upon the seas I sail, Or trundle on the glowing rail, I am but a thought of hers, Loveliest of travellers.
So the gentle poet's name To foreign parts is blown by fame; Seek him in his native town, He is hidden and unknown.
LETTERS.
Every day brings a s.h.i.+p, Every s.h.i.+p brings a word; Well for those who have no fear, Looking seaward well a.s.sured That the word the vessel brings Is the word they wish to hear.
RUBIES.
They brought me rubies from the mine, And held them to the sun; I said, they are drops of frozen wine From Eden's vats that run.
I looked again,--I thought them hearts Of friends to friends unknown; Tides that should warm each neighbouring life Are locked in sparkling stone.
But fire to thaw that ruddy snow, To break enchanted ice, And give love's scarlet tides to flow,-- When shall that sun arise?
MERLIN'S SONG.
Of Merlin wise I learned a song,-- Sing it low or sing it loud, It is mightier than the strong, And punishes the proud.
I sing it to the surging crowd,-- Good men it will calm and cheer, Bad men it will chain and cage.
In the heart of the music peals a strain Which only angels hear; Whether it waken joy or rage, Hushed myriads hark in vain, Yet they who hear it shed their age, And take their youth again.