Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights A Gift of Love for the Beautiful |
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THE RISING OF THE NATIONS. |
 | Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights |  |
THE RISING OF THE NATIONS.
Millions of millions now are groaning, groaning
Beneath the grinding weight of Despotism,
While bloody Anarchy, unmindful of their moaning,
Plunges them deeper into Hell's unsunned Abyssum!
While Earth, now slimed beneath his vile pollution,
Echoes the wailings of their desolation,
Until the remnant, ripe for revolution,
Answers the music of their soul's salvation,
Uttered by Liberty upon th' immortal Mountains,
From all the vallies, out of every habitation—
Coming, like many rills from new-born Fountains
Fresh opened in the Earth from long-descending rains,
Which, gathering into one great onward rushing river,
Distending, overflows its banks, till all the plains
Are inundated with its everspreading waters—
Still gathering volume as it flows forever;—
So did they gather in one mighty multitude,
As if the Nations from the four great quarters
Of all the earth had migrated in one great flood,
With one great common sympathy, to overthrow
This mighty Monarch of the world—this foe
To human greatness—this great Devil to the Free—
This damned Abaddon of the Sons of Anarchy!
Beneath the grinding weight of Despotism,
While bloody Anarchy, unmindful of their moaning,
Plunges them deeper into Hell's unsunned Abyssum!
While Earth, now slimed beneath his vile pollution,
Echoes the wailings of their desolation,
Until the remnant, ripe for revolution,
Answers the music of their soul's salvation,
Uttered by Liberty upon th' immortal Mountains,
From all the vallies, out of every habitation—
Coming, like many rills from new-born Fountains
Fresh opened in the Earth from long-descending rains,
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Distending, overflows its banks, till all the plains
Are inundated with its everspreading waters—
Still gathering volume as it flows forever;—
So did they gather in one mighty multitude,
As if the Nations from the four great quarters
Of all the earth had migrated in one great flood,
With one great common sympathy, to overthrow
This mighty Monarch of the world—this foe
To human greatness—this great Devil to the Free—
This damned Abaddon of the Sons of Anarchy!
Now louder than the loud tumultuous Ocean
Stormed into passion by the ever-roaring Winds—
Come the loud shouts from all those multitudes in motion,
Chorusing the lightnings of these million mighty minds—
Answering the Bugle-blasts from out the Mountains,
Blown from the lips of ever-living Liberty—
Louder than thunders of ten thousand fountains
Leaping down cataracts of Adamant exultingly—
Impatient to become the Children of the Sea!
So did these living Columns of the indignant Free,
Sweep onward to the Angel-voice of Liberty,
Over the desperate cataracts of Anarchy,
Down to the opening Ocean of their Destiny—
Piling their rafts of slain along the vallies,
Like fallen forests—prostrate Monuments of slaughter—
To fatten Earth, or fill up Buzzard's billies—
For future Tyrants, now, shall know no quarter!
Stormed into passion by the ever-roaring Winds—
Come the loud shouts from all those multitudes in motion,
Chorusing the lightnings of these million mighty minds—
Answering the Bugle-blasts from out the Mountains,
Blown from the lips of ever-living Liberty—
Louder than thunders of ten thousand fountains
Leaping down cataracts of Adamant exultingly—
Impatient to become the Children of the Sea!
So did these living Columns of the indignant Free,
Sweep onward to the Angel-voice of Liberty,
Over the desperate cataracts of Anarchy,
Down to the opening Ocean of their Destiny—
Piling their rafts of slain along the vallies,
Like fallen forests—prostrate Monuments of slaughter—
To fatten Earth, or fill up Buzzard's billies—
For future Tyrants, now, shall know no quarter!
Millions now wait, with breathless expectation,
To hail the Advent of the Lord's annointed—
The First-born Child of God, whose coronation
Now begins, from old upon this blessed day appointed.
So, now, the Hallelujahs of the immortal Free
Proclaim him King whose name is Liberty!
To hail the Advent of the Lord's annointed—
The First-born Child of God, whose coronation
Now begins, from old upon this blessed day appointed.
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Proclaim him King whose name is Liberty!
Now, with the thunder-shout of eloquent persuasion,
From all the myriads here assembled to give praise,
Answering the booming cannons on the occasion—
Battering the Gates of Heaven with repercussive blaze—
They spread the News, from Nation unto Nation,
With unrestrained delight, that they are free!
Till all the Mountains echo back their jubilation,
Teaching the Earth the glorious name of Liberty!
Hosanna in Excelsis, was the joyful thunder
That rose up from their souls from morn till even,
Dying, at midnight, into silence deep as wonder,
As dies some Christian knowing he will go to Heaven.
From all the myriads here assembled to give praise,
Answering the booming cannons on the occasion—
Battering the Gates of Heaven with repercussive blaze—
They spread the News, from Nation unto Nation,
With unrestrained delight, that they are free!
Till all the Mountains echo back their jubilation,
Teaching the Earth the glorious name of Liberty!
Hosanna in Excelsis, was the joyful thunder
That rose up from their souls from morn till even,
Dying, at midnight, into silence deep as wonder,
As dies some Christian knowing he will go to Heaven.
| Virginalia ; or, songs of my summer nights | |