 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
137
A DIRGE
ON THE DEATHS OF JOHN ADAMS AND THOMAS JEFFERSON, JULY 4, 1826.
The strains of joy no longer float,
Or thrill upon our raptured ears,
But Sorrow wakes her saddest note,
And millions are dissolved in tears.
Or thrill upon our raptured ears,
But Sorrow wakes her saddest note,
And millions are dissolved in tears.
A nation, clad in sable weeds,
The dark habiliments of grief;
A nation famed for matchless deeds,
Weeps for a father and a chief.
The dark habiliments of grief;
A nation famed for matchless deeds,
Weeps for a father and a chief.
Columbia mourns, though not bereft
Of all which makes existence dear,
For blessings, joys, and hopes, are left,
Which brighten in affliction's tear.
Of all which makes existence dear,
For blessings, joys, and hopes, are left,
Which brighten in affliction's tear.
Yet still she mourns—for they are gone,
Whose wisdom raised her fame so high,
Whose God-like acts her name adorn
With honor that can never die;
Whose wisdom raised her fame so high,
Whose God-like acts her name adorn
With honor that can never die;
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Who framed that bold, that dauntless chart,
Which gave a mighty empire birth,
Aroused to freedom every heart,
And spread its influence through the earth:
Which gave a mighty empire birth,
Aroused to freedom every heart,
And spread its influence through the earth:
Who in her service labored, both,
And asked no recompense but this,
To watch her greatness in its growth,
Promote her fame, and share her bliss.
And asked no recompense but this,
To watch her greatness in its growth,
Promote her fame, and share her bliss.
And Heaven vouchsafed to grant the boon
'Till half a century had passed,
Until her sun had reached its noon,
There to be fixed while time shall last.
'Till half a century had passed,
Until her sun had reached its noon,
There to be fixed while time shall last.
Then burst with joy, their mighty hearts,
And set their raptured spirits free,
So Sol, in flood of light, departs,
And sets in glory's dazzling sea.
And set their raptured spirits free,
So Sol, in flood of light, departs,
And sets in glory's dazzling sea.
In peace the reverend sages slept,
Adorned with honors, crowned with years,
And angels smiled, while nature wept,
A silvery shower of sparkling tears.
Adorned with honors, crowned with years,
And angels smiled, while nature wept,
A silvery shower of sparkling tears.
Then, freemen, mourn—but not as those
Whose hopes are laid beneath the sod,
For your lamented chiefs repose
Upon the bosom of their God.
Whose hopes are laid beneath the sod,
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Upon the bosom of their God.
Mourn for the worth which all admired,
Now crowned with heavenly diadem,
And be with emulation fired
To live, to act, to die, like them.
Now crowned with heavenly diadem,
And be with emulation fired
To live, to act, to die, like them.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |