University of Virginia Library

THE FAMINE-SMITTEN.

In the tears of the Morning—
The smiles of the sun,
The green Earth's adorning
Told spring had begun!
Warm woods donn'd their beauty, wrought
Through long still nights,
And musical breezes brought
Flowery delights:
The humming leaves flasht
Rich in light, with sweet sound,
And the glad waters dasht
Their starry spray round!
The wood-bines up-climbing,
Laught out, pink and golden,
And bees made sweet chiming
In roses half-folden.
But where was that infant-band,
Wont in spring weather
To wander forth, hand-in-hand,
Violets to gather?
Ah misery! they slept,
The dear blossoms of love!
Where the green branches wept,
And the grass crept above;
Melodious gladness
Throbb'd thro' the rich air,
But the anguish of madness
Rent Poverty's lair;
For Famine had smitten
Its pride of life low,
And agony written
On heart and on brow.
Sweet from the boughs the birds
Sang in their mirth,
The lark messaged heaven-wards
Blessings from earth—
But I turn'd where our gentle Lord's
Loves lay in dearth.
They heard not, nor heeded,
The sounds of life o'er them!
They felt not, nor needed,
The hot tears wept for them!
But earth-flowers were springing
O'er human flowers' grave,
And, O God! what heart-wringing
Their tender looks gave!
They died! died of hunger—
By bitter want blasted!
While wealth for the Wronger
Ran over untasted—
While Pomp, in joy's rosy bow'rs,
Wasted life's measure,
Chiding the lagging hours,
Wearied of pleasure!
They died! while men hoarded
The free gifts of God:
They died! 't is recorded
In letters of blood.
Yet the corn on the hills
Waves its showery gold crown;
Still Nature's lap fills
With the good heaven drops down.
O! this world might be lighted
With Eden's first smile—
Angel-haunted—unblighted,
With Freedom for Toil:
But they wring out our blood
For their banquet of gold!
They annul laws of God,
Soul and body are sold!
Hark now! hall and palace,
Ring out, dome and rafter!
Ay, laugh on, ye callous!
In Hell there'll be laughter:
But tremble, hell-makers;
The shorn among men—
The world's image-breakers
Grow mighty again;
There be stern times a-coming,
The dark days of reck'ning,
The storms are up-looming—
The Nemesis wak'ning!
On heaven, blood shall call,
Earth quake with pent thunder,
And shackle and thrall
Shall be riven asunder.
It will come, it shall come,
Impede it what may:
Up, People! and welcome
Your glorious day.