A poem delivered in the first congregational church in the town of Quincy, May 25, 1840 the two hundredth anniversary of the incorporation of the town |
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 | A poem delivered in the first congregational church in the town of Quincy, May 25, 1840 |  |
Vain hope! to hide the coming of a truth,
And kindle worn-out dogmas into youth.
Go quench the stars!—go stop the rivers' flow!
Say to the sea, “thus far, no farther go!”
Or on some height, when day begins to break,
A brimstone match, a pile of faggots take,
And ere the Daystar in the east hath shone,
Make thee a little fire of thine own—
Fall down and worship it—then turn and say
To the great Sun—“Sun, I command thee, stay
Go back, thou morning, lest thy coming bright,
Should mar this fire, the true and only light!”
Shame be to him—the narrow-minded man
Who lets his soul to a base bigot clan;
Who, be he politician, priest, or pope,
Sneers at Humanity's undying hope;
Sets traps to kill all thoughts of untried wing,
As some base sportsmen kill young birds in Spring;
Who sees no truth or good but in the past,
And trembles lest the world move on too fast—
And all who differ from himself miscalls
As mystics, infidels, or radicals.
And kindle worn-out dogmas into youth.
Go quench the stars!—go stop the rivers' flow!
Say to the sea, “thus far, no farther go!”
Or on some height, when day begins to break,
A brimstone match, a pile of faggots take,
And ere the Daystar in the east hath shone,
Make thee a little fire of thine own—
Fall down and worship it—then turn and say
To the great Sun—“Sun, I command thee, stay
Go back, thou morning, lest thy coming bright,
Should mar this fire, the true and only light!”
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Who lets his soul to a base bigot clan;
Who, be he politician, priest, or pope,
Sneers at Humanity's undying hope;
Sets traps to kill all thoughts of untried wing,
As some base sportsmen kill young birds in Spring;
Who sees no truth or good but in the past,
And trembles lest the world move on too fast—
And all who differ from himself miscalls
As mystics, infidels, or radicals.
| A poem delivered in the first congregational church in the town of Quincy, May 25, 1840 | |