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From Sunset Ridge

poems old and new

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THE NEW EXODUS
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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13

THE NEW EXODUS

Forsake this flowery garden!” the frowning Angel said;
“Its vines no more may feed thee, compel from stones thy bread;
Pursue the veins deep buried that hide thy wine and oil:
Fruit shalt thou find with sorrow, and children rear in toil.”
Oh! not in heathen vengeance the winged apostle spoke,
Nor savage retribution the blooming fetters broke.
Man had an arm for labor, a strength to conquer pain,
A brain to plot and study, a will to serve and reign.
That will with slow arraying confronts itself with fate,
The pair unconscious twining the arches of the State.
Earth keeps her fairest garlands to crown the tireless spade;
The fields are white with harvest, the hireling's fee is paid.

14

From tented field to city, to palace, and to throne,
Man builds with work his kingdom, and makes the world his own.
All welded with conditions is empire's golden ring:
The king must keep the peasant, the peasant feed the king.
The word of God once spoken, from truth is never lost;
The high command once given, earth guards with jealous cost.
By this perplexing lesson, men build their busy schemes:
“The way of comfort lies not, kind Eden, through thy dreams.”
I see a land before me, where manhood in its pride
Forgot the solemn sentence, the wage of toil denied:
“To wealth and lofty station some royal road must be;
Our brother, bound and plundered, shall earn us luxury.
“One half of knowledge give him for service and for skill,
The nobler half withholding, that moulds the manly will:

15

From justice bar his pleadings, from mercy keep his prayers;
His daughters for our pleasure, his sons to serve our heirs.”
Again the frowning Angel commandeth to depart,
With fiery scourge of terror, with want and woe of heart:
“Go forth! the earth is weary to bear unrighteous feet;
Release your false possession; go, work that ye may eat.
“Bring here the light of knowledge, the scale of equal rule;
Bring the Republic's weapons, the forum and the school:
The Dagon of your worship is broken on his shrine;
The palm of Christian mercy brings in the true divine.”
So from your southern Eden the flaming sword doth drive;
Your lesson is appointed; go, learn how workmen thrive!
Not sloth has fee of plenty, nor pride of stately crest;
But thou of God beloved, O Labor crowned with rest!