 | The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer |  |
222
WEBSTER.
“Omnes eodem cogimur.”—
Horace.
Horace.
A cloud is over Marshfield, and the wail
Of a vast empire floats upon the gale;
One without peer has shaken hands with death,
And yielded to the elements his breath:
Admonished that the last great change was nigh,
Majestic in decline, he came to die
Back to the rural scenes he loved so well,
Cheered by the low of kine, and pastoral bell—
Back, where his ear once more might catch the roll
Of the roused Ocean—symbol of his soul!
Of a vast empire floats upon the gale;
One without peer has shaken hands with death,
And yielded to the elements his breath:
Admonished that the last great change was nigh,
Majestic in decline, he came to die
Back to the rural scenes he loved so well,
Cheered by the low of kine, and pastoral bell—
Back, where his ear once more might catch the roll
Of the roused Ocean—symbol of his soul!
The agony is o'er—the goal is won—
Earth opens to receive her greatest son!
The world seems poorer now, the sky less fair,
And reigns a brooding sadness everywhere!
Mourn, stern New England! mother of the dead!
Bow to the dust thy richly laurelled head!
He was thy pride—the prop of thy renown—
The brightest jewel in thy dazzling crown;
Thy battle-fields of liberty he trod,
Holding thy soil in reverence next to God,
And the proud triumphs of his matchless mind
Are closely with thy heart-strings intertwined.
Earth opens to receive her greatest son!
The world seems poorer now, the sky less fair,
And reigns a brooding sadness everywhere!
Mourn, stern New England! mother of the dead!
Bow to the dust thy richly laurelled head!
He was thy pride—the prop of thy renown—
The brightest jewel in thy dazzling crown;
Thy battle-fields of liberty he trod,
Holding thy soil in reverence next to God,
And the proud triumphs of his matchless mind
Are closely with thy heart-strings intertwined.
Well may ye mourn, confederated states!
For what a void a loss like this creates;
A crowning glory from the land is gone,
And a dark pall seems over nature drawn.
He was our boldest watchman on the tower,
Our strongest champion in the trial hour;
Through all disguises could his magic glance,
Eager and keen, detect a foe's advance;
First by his voice was loud alarum pealed,
Uplifted first his interposing shield:
Discordant horn in vain sedition blew,
While pale with fear the front of Treason grew.
Unawed by threats he gave the stroke of fate
To howling Faction, Fraud, and barking Hate;
And in defence of ancient landmarks stood
A guardian lion of the public good.
For what a void a loss like this creates;
A crowning glory from the land is gone,
And a dark pall seems over nature drawn.
223
Our strongest champion in the trial hour;
Through all disguises could his magic glance,
Eager and keen, detect a foe's advance;
First by his voice was loud alarum pealed,
Uplifted first his interposing shield:
Discordant horn in vain sedition blew,
While pale with fear the front of Treason grew.
Unawed by threats he gave the stroke of fate
To howling Faction, Fraud, and barking Hate;
And in defence of ancient landmarks stood
A guardian lion of the public good.
A varied lore enriched his high discourse
Grandly pronounced in words of Saxon force,
While arguments, in logical array,
Aught that opposed swept easily away.
Grace to his speech imagination gave,
Like a foam wreath upon a rushing wave;
For a deep vein of pure poetic gold
Ran through that mighty mind of granite mould.
Regarding not the creed of caste or clan,
His soul embraced the brotherhood of man,
And party withes that tend to dwarf the mind,
Could not the limbs of such a Titan bind.
Who can forget his eloquent appeal,
When struggling Greece leaned on her broken steel?
Roused by his voice, were treasuries unlocked,
While armed avengers to her standard flocked,
And rose full soon to Heaven, from land and sea,
The glad announcement, “Greece once more is free!”
Grandly pronounced in words of Saxon force,
While arguments, in logical array,
Aught that opposed swept easily away.
Grace to his speech imagination gave,
Like a foam wreath upon a rushing wave;
For a deep vein of pure poetic gold
Ran through that mighty mind of granite mould.
Regarding not the creed of caste or clan,
His soul embraced the brotherhood of man,
And party withes that tend to dwarf the mind,
Could not the limbs of such a Titan bind.
Who can forget his eloquent appeal,
When struggling Greece leaned on her broken steel?
Roused by his voice, were treasuries unlocked,
While armed avengers to her standard flocked,
And rose full soon to Heaven, from land and sea,
The glad announcement, “Greece once more is free!”
What have wretches gained who dared to shower
Their missiles round him in his dying hour?
Darts blunted in the cowardly attack,
And infamy, beyond expression black.
Could puny malice hope to overthrow
Earth's greatest statesman with one feeble blow,
Or fling the shadow of obscuring shame
On the colossal column of his fame?
As well might pigmies gather to displace
The rock-ribbed mountain from its ancient base.
Not limited by continents, though vast,
Was a renown that empires will outlast;
The proudest office in the wide world's gift,
To higher state a Webster could not lift;
On him would honors, play-things of a day,
Stars, garters, ribbons have been thrown away—
Titles have proven but an empty sound,
Conferred on one so truly world-renowned.
Their missiles round him in his dying hour?
Darts blunted in the cowardly attack,
And infamy, beyond expression black.
Could puny malice hope to overthrow
Earth's greatest statesman with one feeble blow,
224
On the colossal column of his fame?
As well might pigmies gather to displace
The rock-ribbed mountain from its ancient base.
Not limited by continents, though vast,
Was a renown that empires will outlast;
The proudest office in the wide world's gift,
To higher state a Webster could not lift;
On him would honors, play-things of a day,
Stars, garters, ribbons have been thrown away—
Titles have proven but an empty sound,
Conferred on one so truly world-renowned.
As sinks, full-orbed, some blazing tropic sun
Until night's sable boundary is won—
Between no waning ray, no twilight-time,
Gilding the gloom as in our colder clime:
So sank till reached Death's realm of dark repose,
His sun-like mind unclouded to the close.
Ye nations mourn! the foremost man of earth
Has looked his last on home and sacred hearth—
A great light is extinguished on the shore
Of crumbling time, for Webster is no more!
Until night's sable boundary is won—
Between no waning ray, no twilight-time,
Gilding the gloom as in our colder clime:
So sank till reached Death's realm of dark repose,
His sun-like mind unclouded to the close.
Ye nations mourn! the foremost man of earth
Has looked his last on home and sacred hearth—
A great light is extinguished on the shore
Of crumbling time, for Webster is no more!
No more?—away with that disheartening word!
His voice in other ages will be heard,
Its clarion music ringing on the ear
To wrong a knell—to right a sound of cheer:
Still can its thunder deaden with alarm
The plotting head and parricidal arm—
Its utterance, unstifled by the grave,
Rouse from lethargic indolence the brave,
Should fierce Rebellion light polluted fires
On soil made holy by the dust of sires.
As Egypt gave the dead within her tomb
Both preservation and a sweet perfume,
Alone not immortality is given
To Webster's fame, but odor as of Heaven.
His voice in other ages will be heard,
Its clarion music ringing on the ear
To wrong a knell—to right a sound of cheer:
Still can its thunder deaden with alarm
The plotting head and parricidal arm—
Its utterance, unstifled by the grave,
Rouse from lethargic indolence the brave,
Should fierce Rebellion light polluted fires
On soil made holy by the dust of sires.
As Egypt gave the dead within her tomb
Both preservation and a sweet perfume,
Alone not immortality is given
To Webster's fame, but odor as of Heaven.
| The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer | |