 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
399
PERSONAL POEMS.
READY.
Loaded with gallant soldiers,
A boat shot in to the land,
And lay at the right of Rodman's Point,
With her keel upon the sand.
A boat shot in to the land,
And lay at the right of Rodman's Point,
With her keel upon the sand.
Lightly, gayly, they came to shore,
And never a man afraid,
When sudden the enemy opened fire,
From his deadly ambuscade.
And never a man afraid,
When sudden the enemy opened fire,
From his deadly ambuscade.
Each man fell flat on the bottom
Of the boat; and the captain said:
“If we lie here, we all are captured,
And the first who moves is dead!”
Of the boat; and the captain said:
“If we lie here, we all are captured,
And the first who moves is dead!”
Then out spoke a negro sailor,
No slavish soul had he;
“Somebody 's got to die, boys,
And it might as well be me!”
No slavish soul had he;
“Somebody 's got to die, boys,
And it might as well be me!”
Firmly he rose, and fearlessly
Stepped out into the tide;
He pushed the vessel safely off,
Then fell across her side:
Stepped out into the tide;
He pushed the vessel safely off,
Then fell across her side:
Fell, pierced by a dozen bullets,
As the boat swung clear and free;—
But there was n't a man of them that day
Who was fitter to die than he!
As the boat swung clear and free;—
But there was n't a man of them that day
Who was fitter to die than he!
DICKENS.
“One story more,” the whole world cried.
The great magician smiled in doubt:
“I am so tired that, if I tried,
I fear I could not tell it out.”
The great magician smiled in doubt:
“I am so tired that, if I tried,
I fear I could not tell it out.”
“But one is all we ask,” they said;
“You surely cannot faint nor fail.”
Again he raised his weary head,
And slow began the witching tale.
“You surely cannot faint nor fail.”
Again he raised his weary head,
And slow began the witching tale.
The fierce debater's tongue grew mute,
Wise men were silent for his sake;
The poet threw aside his lute,
And paused enraptured while he spake.
Wise men were silent for his sake;
The poet threw aside his lute,
And paused enraptured while he spake.
The proudest lady in the land
Forgot that praise and power were sweet;
She dropped the jewels from her hand,
And sat enchanted at his feet.
Forgot that praise and power were sweet;
She dropped the jewels from her hand,
And sat enchanted at his feet.
Lovers, with clasped hands lightly prest,
Saw Hope's sweet blossoms bud and bloom;
Men, hastening to their final rest,
Stopped, half-enraptured with the tomb.
Saw Hope's sweet blossoms bud and bloom;
Men, hastening to their final rest,
Stopped, half-enraptured with the tomb.
Children, with locks of brown and gold,
Gathered about like flocks of birds;
The poor, whose story he had told,
Drew near and loved him for his words.
Gathered about like flocks of birds;
The poor, whose story he had told,
Drew near and loved him for his words.
His eye burns bright, his voice is strong,
A waiting people eager stands;
Men on the outskirts of the throng
Interpret him to distant lands.
A waiting people eager stands;
Men on the outskirts of the throng
Interpret him to distant lands.
When lo! his accents, faltering, fall;
The nations, awe-struck, hold their breath;
The great magician, loved of all,
Has sunk to slumber, tired to death!
The nations, awe-struck, hold their breath;
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Has sunk to slumber, tired to death!
His human eyes in blind eclipse
Are from the world forever sealed;
The “mystery” trembling on his lips
Shall never, never be revealed.
Are from the world forever sealed;
The “mystery” trembling on his lips
Shall never, never be revealed.
Yet who would miss that tale half told,
Though weird and strange, or sweet and true;
Who care to listen to the old,
If he could hear the strange and new?
Though weird and strange, or sweet and true;
Who care to listen to the old,
If he could hear the strange and new?
Alas! alas! it cannot be;
We too must sleep and change and rise,
To learn the eternal mystery
That dawned upon his waking eyes!
We too must sleep and change and rise,
To learn the eternal mystery
That dawned upon his waking eyes!
THADDEUS STEVENS.
An eye with the piercing eagle's fire,
Not the look of the gentle dove;
Not his the form that men admire,
Nor the face that tender women love.
Not the look of the gentle dove;
Not his the form that men admire,
Nor the face that tender women love.
Working first for his daily bread
With the humblest toilers of the earth;
Never walking with free, proud tread—
Crippled and halting from his birth.
With the humblest toilers of the earth;
Never walking with free, proud tread—
Crippled and halting from his birth.
Wearing outside a thorny suit
Of sharp, sarcastic, stinging power;
Sweet at the core as sweetest fruit,
Or inmost heart of fragrant flower.
Of sharp, sarcastic, stinging power;
Sweet at the core as sweetest fruit,
Or inmost heart of fragrant flower.
Fierce and trenchant, the haughty foe
Felt his words like a sword of flame;
But to the humble, poor, and low
Soft as a woman's his accents came.
Felt his words like a sword of flame;
But to the humble, poor, and low
Soft as a woman's his accents came.
Not his the closest, tenderest friend—
No children blessed his lonely way;
But down in his heart until the end
The tender dream of his boyhood lay.
No children blessed his lonely way;
But down in his heart until the end
The tender dream of his boyhood lay.
His mother's faith he held not fast;
But he loved her living, mourned her dead,
And he kept her memory to the last
As green as the sod above her bed.
But he loved her living, mourned her dead,
And he kept her memory to the last
As green as the sod above her bed.
He held as sacred in his home
Whatever things she wrought or planned,
And never suffered change to come
To the work of her “industrious hand.”
Whatever things she wrought or planned,
And never suffered change to come
To the work of her “industrious hand.”
For her who pillowed first his head
He heaped with a wealth of flowers the grave,
While he chose to sleep in an unmarked bed,
By his Master's humblest poor—the slave.
He heaped with a wealth of flowers the grave,
While he chose to sleep in an unmarked bed,
By his Master's humblest poor—the slave.
Suppose he swerved from the straightest course—
That the things he should not do he did—
That he hid from the eyes of mortals, close,
Such sins as you and I have hid?
That the things he should not do he did—
That he hid from the eyes of mortals, close,
Such sins as you and I have hid?
Or suppose him worse than you; what then?
Judge not, lest you be judged for sin!
One said who knew the hearts of men:
Who loveth much shall a pardon win.
Judge not, lest you be judged for sin!
One said who knew the hearts of men:
Who loveth much shall a pardon win.
The Prince of Glory for sinners bled;
His soul was bought with a royal price;
And his beautified feet on flowers may tread
To-day with his Lord in Paradise.
His soul was bought with a royal price;
And his beautified feet on flowers may tread
To-day with his Lord in Paradise.
Thaddeus Stevens, who cared nothing about his own burial-place, except that the spot should be one from which the humblest of his fellow-creatures were not excluded, left by will one thousand dollars to beautify and adorn the grave of his mother.
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.
Great master of the poet's art!
Surely the sources of thy powers
Lie in that true and tender heart
Whose every utterance touches ours.
Surely the sources of thy powers
Lie in that true and tender heart
Whose every utterance touches ours.
For, better than thy words, that glow
With sunset dyes or noontide heat,
That count the treasures of the snow,
Or paint the blossoms at our feet,
With sunset dyes or noontide heat,
That count the treasures of the snow,
Or paint the blossoms at our feet,
Are those that teach the sorrowing how
To lay aside their fear and doubt,
And in submissive love to bow
To love that passeth finding out.
To lay aside their fear and doubt,
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To love that passeth finding out.
And thou for such hast come to be
In every home an honored guest—
Even from the cities by the sea
To the broad prairies of the West.
In every home an honored guest—
Even from the cities by the sea
To the broad prairies of the West.
Thy lays have cheered the humble home
Where men who prayed for freedom knelt;
And women, in their anguish dumb,
Have heard thee utter what they felt.
Where men who prayed for freedom knelt;
And women, in their anguish dumb,
Have heard thee utter what they felt.
And thou hast battled for the right
With many a brave and trenchant word.
And shown us how the pen may fight
A mightier battle than the sword.
With many a brave and trenchant word.
And shown us how the pen may fight
A mightier battle than the sword.
And therefore men in coming years
Shall chant thy praises loud and long;
And woman name thee through their tears
A poet greater than his song.
Shall chant thy praises loud and long;
And woman name thee through their tears
A poet greater than his song.
But not thy strains, with courage rife,
Nor holiest hymns, shall rank above
The rhythmic beauty of thy life,
Itself a canticle of love!
Nor holiest hymns, shall rank above
The rhythmic beauty of thy life,
Itself a canticle of love!
THE HERO OF FORT WAGNER.
Fort Wagner! that is a place for us
To remember well, my lad!
For us, who were under the guns, and know
The bloody work we had.
To remember well, my lad!
For us, who were under the guns, and know
The bloody work we had.
I should not speak to one so young,
Perhaps, as I do to you;
But you are a soldier's son, my boy,
And you know what soldiers do.
Perhaps, as I do to you;
But you are a soldier's son, my boy,
And you know what soldiers do.
And when peace comes to our land again,
And your father sits in his home,
You will hear such tales of war as this,
For many a year to come.
And your father sits in his home,
You will hear such tales of war as this,
For many a year to come.
We were repulsed from the Fort, you know,
And saw our heroes fall,
Till the dead were piled in bloody heaps
Under the frowning wall.
And saw our heroes fall,
Till the dead were piled in bloody heaps
Under the frowning wall.
Yet crushed as we were and beaten back,
Our spirits never bowed;
And gallant deeds that day were done
To make a soldier proud.
Our spirits never bowed;
And gallant deeds that day were done
To make a soldier proud.
Brave men were there, for their country's sake
To spend their latest breath;
But the bravest was one who gave his life
And his body after death.
To spend their latest breath;
But the bravest was one who gave his life
And his body after death.
No greater words than his dying ones
Have been spoken under the sun;
Not even his, who brought the news
On the field at Ratisbon.
Have been spoken under the sun;
Not even his, who brought the news
On the field at Ratisbon.
I was pressing up; to try if yet
Our men might take the place,
And my feet had slipped in his oozing blood
Before I saw his face.
Our men might take the place,
And my feet had slipped in his oozing blood
Before I saw his face.
His face! it was black as the skies o'erhead
With the smoke of the angry guns;
And a gash in his bosom showed the work
Of our country's traitor sons.
With the smoke of the angry guns;
And a gash in his bosom showed the work
Of our country's traitor sons.
Your pardon, my poor boy! I said,
I did not see you here;
But I will not hurt you as I pass;
I 'll have a care; no fear!
I did not see you here;
But I will not hurt you as I pass;
I 'll have a care; no fear!
He smiled; he had only strength to say
These words, and that was all:
“I 'm done gone, Massa; step on me;
And you can scale the wall!”
These words, and that was all:
“I 'm done gone, Massa; step on me;
And you can scale the wall!”
GARIBALDI IN PIEDMONT.
Hemmed in by the hosts of the Austrians,
No succor at hand,
Adown the green passes of Piedmont,
That beautiful land,
Moves a patriot band.
No succor at hand,
Adown the green passes of Piedmont,
That beautiful land,
Moves a patriot band.
Two long days and nights, watchful, sleepless,
Have they ridden nor yet
Checked the rein, though the feet of their horses,
In the ripe vineyard set,
By its wine have been wet.
Have they ridden nor yet
Checked the rein, though the feet of their horses,
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By its wine have been wet.
What know they of weariness, hunger,
What good can they lack,
While they follow their brave Garibaldi,
Who never turns back,
Never halts on his track?
What good can they lack,
While they follow their brave Garibaldi,
Who never turns back,
Never halts on his track?
By the Austrians outnumbered, surrounded,
On left and on right;
Strong and fearless he moves as a giant,
Who rouses to fight
From the slumbers of night.
On left and on right;
Strong and fearless he moves as a giant,
Who rouses to fight
From the slumbers of night.
So, over the paths of Orfano,
His brave horsemen tread,
Long after the sun, halting wearied,
Hath hidden his head
In his tent-folds of red.
His brave horsemen tread,
Long after the sun, halting wearied,
Hath hidden his head
In his tent-folds of red.
Every man with his eye on his leader,
Whom a spell must have bound,
For he rideth as still as the shadow,
That keeps step on the ground,
In a silence profound.
Whom a spell must have bound,
For he rideth as still as the shadow,
That keeps step on the ground,
In a silence profound.
With the harmony Nature is breathing,
His soul is in tune;
He is bathed in a bath of the splendor
Of the beautiful moon,
Of the air soft as June!
His soul is in tune;
He is bathed in a bath of the splendor
Of the beautiful moon,
Of the air soft as June!
But what sound meets the ear of the soldier;
What menacing tone?
For look! how the horse and the rider
Have suddenly grown
As if carvèd in stone.
What menacing tone?
For look! how the horse and the rider
Have suddenly grown
As if carvèd in stone.
Leaning down toward that fair grove of olives
He waits; doth it mean
That he catches the tramp of the Austrians,
That his quick eye hath seen
Their bayonets' sheen?
He waits; doth it mean
That he catches the tramp of the Austrians,
That his quick eye hath seen
Their bayonets' sheen?
Nay! there, where the thick leaves about her
By the music are stirred,
Sits a nightingale singing her rapture,
And the hero hath heard
But the voice of a bird!
By the music are stirred,
Sits a nightingale singing her rapture,
And the hero hath heard
But the voice of a bird!
A hero! aye, more than a hero
By this he appears;
A man, with a heart that is tender,
Unhardened by years;
Who shall tell what he hears?
By this he appears;
A man, with a heart that is tender,
Unhardened by years;
Who shall tell what he hears?
Not the voice of the nightingale only,
Floating soft on the breeze,
But the music of dear human voices,
And blended with these
The sound of the seas.
Floating soft on the breeze,
But the music of dear human voices,
And blended with these
The sound of the seas.
Ah, the sea, the dear sea! from the cradle
She took him to rest;
Leaping out from the arms of his mother,
He went to her breast
And was softly caressed.
She took him to rest;
Leaping out from the arms of his mother,
He went to her breast
And was softly caressed.
Perchance he is back on her bosom,
Safe from fear or alarms,
Clasping close as of old that first mistress
Whose wonderful charms
Drew him down to her arms.
Safe from fear or alarms,
Clasping close as of old that first mistress
Whose wonderful charms
Drew him down to her arms.
By the memories that come with that singing
His soul has been wiled
Far away from the danger of battle;
Transported, beguiled,
He again is a child,
His soul has been wiled
Far away from the danger of battle;
Transported, beguiled,
He again is a child,
Sitting down at the feet of the mother,
Whose prayers are the charm
That ever in conflict and peril
Has strengthened his arm,
And kept him from harm.
Whose prayers are the charm
That ever in conflict and peril
Has strengthened his arm,
And kept him from harm.
Nay, who knows but his spirit that moment
Was gone in its quest
Of that bright bird of paradise, vanished
Too soon from the nest
Where her lover was blest!
Was gone in its quest
Of that bright bird of paradise, vanished
Too soon from the nest
Where her lover was blest!
For unerring the soul finds its kindred,
Below or above;
And, as over the great waste of waters
To her mate goes the dove,
So love seeks its love.
Below or above;
And, as over the great waste of waters
To her mate goes the dove,
So love seeks its love.
Did he see her first blush, burning softly
His kisses beneath;
Or her dear look of love, when he held her
Disputing with Death
For the last precious breath?
His kisses beneath;
Or her dear look of love, when he held her
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For the last precious breath?
Lost Anita! sweet vision of beauty,
Too sacred to tell
Is the tale of her dear life, that, hidden
In his heart's deepest cell,
Is kept safely and well.
Too sacred to tell
Is the tale of her dear life, that, hidden
In his heart's deepest cell,
Is kept safely and well.
And what matter his dreams! He whose bosom
With such rapture can glow
Hath something within him more sacred
Than the hero may show,
Or the patriot know.
With such rapture can glow
Hath something within him more sacred
Than the hero may show,
Or the patriot know.
And this praise, for man or for hero,
The best were, in sooth;
His heart, through life's conflict and peril,
Has kept its first truth,
And the dreams of its youth.
The best were, in sooth;
His heart, through life's conflict and peril,
Has kept its first truth,
And the dreams of its youth.
JOHN BROWN.
Men silenced on his faithful lips
Words of resistless truth and power;—
Those words, reëchoing now, have made
The gathering war-cry of the hour.
Words of resistless truth and power;—
Those words, reëchoing now, have made
The gathering war-cry of the hour.
They thought to darken down in blood
The light of freedom's burning rays;
The beacon-fires we tend to-day
Were lit in that undying blaze.
The light of freedom's burning rays;
The beacon-fires we tend to-day
Were lit in that undying blaze.
They took the earthly prop and staff
Out of an unresisting hand;
God came, and led him safely on,
By ways they could not understand.
Out of an unresisting hand;
God came, and led him safely on,
By ways they could not understand.
They knew not, when from his old eyes
They shut the world for evermore,
The ladder by which angels come
Rests firmly on the dungeon's floor.
They shut the world for evermore,
The ladder by which angels come
Rests firmly on the dungeon's floor.
They deemed no vision bright could cheer
His stony couch and prison ward;
He slept to dream of Heaven, and rose
To build a Bethel to the Lord!
His stony couch and prison ward;
He slept to dream of Heaven, and rose
To build a Bethel to the Lord!
They showed to his unshrinking gaze
The “sentence” men have paled to see:
He read God's writing of “reprieve,”
And grant of endless liberty.
The “sentence” men have paled to see:
He read God's writing of “reprieve,”
And grant of endless liberty.
They tried to conquer and subdue
By marshaled power and bitter hate;
The simple manhood of the man
Was braver than an armèd state.
By marshaled power and bitter hate;
The simple manhood of the man
Was braver than an armèd state.
They hoped at last to make him feel
The felon's shame, and felon's dread;
And lo! the martyr's crown of joy
Settled forever on his head!
The felon's shame, and felon's dread;
And lo! the martyr's crown of joy
Settled forever on his head!
OTWAY.
Poet, whose lays our memory still
Back from the past is bringing,
Whose sweetest songs were in thy life
And never in thy singing;
Back from the past is bringing,
Whose sweetest songs were in thy life
And never in thy singing;
For chords thy hand had scarcely touched
By death were rudely broken,
And poems, trembling on thy lip,
Alas! were never spoken.
By death were rudely broken,
And poems, trembling on thy lip,
Alas! were never spoken.
We say thy words of hope and cheer
When hope of ours would languish,
And keep them always in our hearts
For comfort in our anguish.
When hope of ours would languish,
And keep them always in our hearts
For comfort in our anguish.
Yet not for thee we mourn as those
Who feel by God forsaken;
We would rejoice that thou wert lent,
Nor weep that thou wert taken.
Who feel by God forsaken;
We would rejoice that thou wert lent,
Nor weep that thou wert taken.
For thou didst lead us up from earth
To walk in fields elysian,
And show to us the heavenly shore
In many a raptured vision.
To walk in fields elysian,
And show to us the heavenly shore
In many a raptured vision.
Thy faith was strong from earth's last trial
The spirit to deliver,
And throw a golden bridge across
Death's dark and silent river;
The spirit to deliver,
And throw a golden bridge across
Death's dark and silent river;
A bridge, where fearless thou didst pass
The stern and awful warder,
And enter with triumphant songs
Upon the heavenly border.
The stern and awful warder,
And enter with triumphant songs
Upon the heavenly border.
Oh, for a harp like thine to sing
The songs that are immortal;
Oh, for a faith like thine to cross
The everlasting portal!
The songs that are immortal;
Oh, for a faith like thine to cross
The everlasting portal!
Then might we tell to all the world
Redemption's wondrous story;
Go down to death as thou didst go,
And up from death to glory.
Redemption's wondrous story;
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And up from death to glory.
OUR GOOD PRESIDENT.
Our sun hath gone down at the noon-day,
The heavens are black;
And over the morning, the shadows
Of night-time are back.
The heavens are black;
And over the morning, the shadows
Of night-time are back.
Stop the proud boasting mouth of the cannon;
Hush the mirth and the shout;—
God is God! and the ways of Jehovah
Are past finding out.
Hush the mirth and the shout;—
God is God! and the ways of Jehovah
Are past finding out.
Lo! the beautiful feet on the mountains,
That yesterday stood,
The white feet that came with glad tidings
Are dabbled in blood.
That yesterday stood,
The white feet that came with glad tidings
Are dabbled in blood.
The Nation that firmly was settling
The crown on her head,
Sits like Rizpah, in sackcloth and ashes,
And watches her dead.
The crown on her head,
Sits like Rizpah, in sackcloth and ashes,
And watches her dead.
Who is dead? who, unmoved by our wailing,
Is lying so low?
O my Land, stricken dumb in your anguish,
Do you feel, do you know,
Is lying so low?
O my Land, stricken dumb in your anguish,
Do you feel, do you know,
That the hand which reached out of the darkness
Hath taken the whole;
Yea, the arm and the head of the people,—
The heart and the soul?
Hath taken the whole;
Yea, the arm and the head of the people,—
The heart and the soul?
And that heart, o'er whose dread awful silence
A nation has wept;
Was the truest, and gentlest, and sweetest,
A man ever kept.
A nation has wept;
Was the truest, and gentlest, and sweetest,
A man ever kept.
Why, he heard from the dungeons, the rice-fields,
The dark holds of ships
Every faint, feeble cry which oppression
Smothered down on men's lips.
The dark holds of ships
Every faint, feeble cry which oppression
Smothered down on men's lips.
In her furnace, the centuries had welded
Their fetter and chain;
And like withes, in the hands of his purpose,
He snapped them in twain.
Their fetter and chain;
And like withes, in the hands of his purpose,
He snapped them in twain.
Who can be what he was to the people,—
What he was to the state?
Shall the ages bring to us another
As good and as great?
What he was to the state?
Shall the ages bring to us another
As good and as great?
Our hearts with their anguish are broken,
Our wet eyes are dim;
For us is the loss and the sorrow,
The triumph for him!
Our wet eyes are dim;
For us is the loss and the sorrow,
The triumph for him!
For, ere this, face to face with his Father
Our martyr hath stood;
Giving into his hand a white record,
With its great seal of blood!
Our martyr hath stood;
Giving into his hand a white record,
With its great seal of blood!
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