 | Later Lays and Lyrics |  |
ANNUS MIRABILIS.
I.
Time's belfry, with another knell,Is in the wintry tempest shaking,
And Ocean, with an angry swell,
Is on the beach in thunder breaking.
Another pilgrim reached the goal
When waned the last hour of December,
And left behind a blood-red scroll
That man will evermore remember.
II.
To Europe for a mighty themeNo more in thought the bard will wander,
But here, awaking from his dream,
Upon the fate of empire ponder.
Of greatest moment are events
Within one year's brief limits crowded;
Potomac's shore all white with tents,
Heroic martyrs early shrouded.
III.
Fields with fraternal gore are redWhere Peace, of late, the grain was reaping;
From rugged Maine to Hilton Head
Are widowed ones, and Orphans weeping.
62
Now, as of old, are slow to anger,
But when concession is disgrace
They love the battle's shock and clangor.
IV.
Departed Year! the book of TimeIs filled with memorable pages,
Recording wars, and deeds sublime
That scatter night from perished ages.
But, ah! not one of these can chain
Such grand material for story
As leaf that registers thy name,
Though sorrow mingles with the glory.
V.
Unsparing, parracidal handsHave lifted steel to pierce a mother
Whose fall, in many groaning lands
The spark of liberty would smother.
In vain have patriots implored—
Misled by chiefs whose hearts were rotten;
Revolted states have grasped the sword,
And every solemn oath forgotten.
VI.
An undivided North has swornThis league of states shall not be broken;
Drum-beat, and blast of her bugle-horn
The marching of her hosts betoken.
Ask not, ask not, with lying mouth,
Unblushing preacher of Disunion!
“Why should the children of the South
With Northern mud-sills hold communion?”
63
VII.
Have we no partnership in gravesOn Yorktown's plain, by Eutaw's water,
Where Britain sent her hireling slaves
Like driven cattle to the slaughter?
Who called New England craven when
She fought to guard your homes and alters,
While many of the Southern men
Grew loyal at the thought of halters?
VIII.
When Carolina's host had fledFrom Camden in disgraceful panic,
The chief to victory that led
Was Greene, Rhode Island's brave mechanic.
The sword-cane and the bowie-knife
In peaceful times we never carry;
But strong must be the arm in strife
That downright northern blows can parry.
IX.
If gallant Marion from the tombCould rise, how stern would be his warning,
To see the land in deeper gloom
Than wrapped in it the nation's morning;
To hear wild wailing in the air,
And cries of havoc and disaster,
While tiger Slavery, in his lair,
Crouched for the life-blood of the master.
X.
That country never bleeds in vainWhen the dread curse of war falls on her,
64
She vindicates insulted honor.
When kind, paternal words are weak,
And spurned the calm appeal of reason,
The cannon's iron lips must speak
In thunder to the brood of Treason.
XI.
The poet cherishes beliefWhen nations reach the brink of ruin
Wake in their coffins sage and chief,
To preach against the foul undoing.
Hark! Marshfield by the sounding sea,
And Ashland call in tones of thunder—
“This mighty Empire of the Free
Rebellion must not rend asunder.”
XII.
Mount Vernon finds a voice, and criesIn tones of earnest supplication,
“Ye madmen, sever not the ties
Of fealty that States owe the Nation.”
The Hermitage has vocal grown
While near the storm of battle gathers—
“Strike! for the soil that freemen own,
Strike for the grave-mounds of your fathers.”
XIII.
Weep, Genius of Columbia, weep!With proud, but bitter drops of sorrow,
Where Winthrop and Young Ellsworth sleep
The slumber that will know no morrow.
65
Gleams like a cloudless star full brightly,
Or Sydney of the laurel crown,
They fell with harness on full knightly.
XIV.
What land can nobler heroes boastWho in the van have died sublimely,
Than Lyon, Ajax of the host!
And gallant Baker, slain untimely.
For them the marble shafts of art
Would be a work of vain endeavor;
Their names upon the Nation's heart
Are written, and will last forever.
XV.
Beware of ice-bergs when afloat,The mighty growth of polar winters;
Or Ocean when the strongest boat
With flail of surge he pounds to splinters.
For avalanches darkening day,
Watch, traveler, in Alpine regions!
They have been known to sweep away
An army with its bannered legions.
XVI.
Volcanic fires and earthquake shockMock at crowned heads and their dominions,
And deadly is the wild siroc
Lifting the sand waste on its pinions.
Terrific, these!—but lo, a sight
At which description lags and falters!
Armed millions rising in their might,
And as ONE MAN to guard their alters.
66
XVII.
No foreign foe pollutes our coast,No Vandal horde of rash invaders
To rouse in arms a grander host
Than Hermit Peter's grim Crusaders.
Far louder than Orlando's horn
The tocsin of alarm is ringing,
And brighter than the blaze of morn
Our flag abroad its folds are flinging.
XVIII.
Oh! why should precious blood be spilledBy rending shot and dripping sabre,
Where God has with abundance filled
The bursting granaries of Labor?
Give answer, vile, insurgent crew,
More heartless far that fiends infernal,
To Country, Home and Heaven untrue,
And doomed to infamy eternal!
XIX.
No longer in your hellish hate,A hope to crush this Union cherish:
Immutable and fixed as fate
Is the decree that Guilt must perish.
Truth's champions can know no fear,
For love divine is watching o'er them,
And frightened by their charging cheer,
The Powers of Darkness flee before them.
XX.
Port Royal has revived the fameOf our lost Perrys and Decaturs;
67
Be unremembered by the traitors?
Our roaring implements of death
Woke fear and trembling in that city
Where fell Rebellion first drew breath,
And armed his pirates and banditti.
XXI.
When “On to Richmond!” was the cry,Talk not of routed thousands flying;
Dragoons and footmen rushing by,
Regardless of the dead and dying—
The “Chivalry” far greater speed
Have shown when meeting with reverses,
Leaving behind them in their need,
Arms, clothing, wretched scrip and purses.
XXII.
This government, insulted long,By fiends who glory in transgression,
Though patient under grevious wrong
Now drains the life-blood of Secession.
The sceptred tyrants of the world
Who thought Columbia's doom was written
Ere sword is sheathed, or banner furled
By Freedom's gauntlet shall be smitten.
XXIII.
Old Pharisee of Nations! pause!While covert aid to traitors lending;
Be wary when a righteous cause,
Bold, chainless millions are defending.
68
Weak, idle words not worth the heeding;
Your Lion to his island lair
Twice have we driven maimed and bleeding.
XXIV.
The leaves of history are blackWith thy iniquities unnumbered,
And darkly ambushed for attack
In vengeance that too long has slumbered.
In fierce pursuit of power and gold
The scourge of nations thou has proven:
For thee, like haughty Tyre of old,
The funeral pall will yet be woven.
XXV.
We ask no sympathy from theeWhile insurrection frowns defiant,
More strong, grey Robber of the Sea!
Will tower again this Western Giant.
Hark! to the stormy battle-song
Of freemen on their march victorious,
And banish hope that fraud and wrong
Can overthrow this Empire glorious.
| Later Lays and Lyrics | |