 | Duganne's Poetical Works |  |
Shall this be our Republic? Ay! though guile
And wrong may lift their threat'ning front a while;
Though leaders falter, and defenders fail;
Though statesmen may betray, and champions quail,—
Be sure, (though leprous spots have scarred it o'er,)
The People's Heart is sound within its core!
Above the din of battling Politics
The People's Heart still throbs—with Seventy-six!
And wrong may lift their threat'ning front a while;
Though leaders falter, and defenders fail;
Though statesmen may betray, and champions quail,—
Be sure, (though leprous spots have scarred it o'er,)
The People's Heart is sound within its core!
Above the din of battling Politics
The People's Heart still throbs—with Seventy-six!
God bless the Heart of the People! It meaneth
Eternally well—and it hateth all wrong:
And ever to goodness and nobleness leaneth;
And hopeth in heaven, though long
It hath suffered from shackle and thong.
Eternally well—and it hateth all wrong:
And ever to goodness and nobleness leaneth;
And hopeth in heaven, though long
It hath suffered from shackle and thong.
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'Tis the Heart of the People first throbbeth indignant,
When despots would rivet their fetters accurst:
And fronts with bold bosom the tyrant malignant—
And swells, till with glorious burst,
Out gushes the flame it hath nursed.
When despots would rivet their fetters accurst:
And fronts with bold bosom the tyrant malignant—
And swells, till with glorious burst,
Out gushes the flame it hath nursed.
'Tis the Heart of the People—in mighty ovation—
Flings chaplets of fame in the patriot's path:
Or grapples with fraud on his mountainous station,
And showeth what terrors it hath,
When wrong shall awaken its wrath!
Flings chaplets of fame in the patriot's path:
Or grapples with fraud on his mountainous station,
And showeth what terrors it hath,
When wrong shall awaken its wrath!
'Tis the Heart of the People that lovingly weepeth,
When famishing nations cry wildly for bread;
And forth from that Heart, how its sympathy leapeth,
Till banquets for hunger are spread;
And the living arise from the dead!
When famishing nations cry wildly for bread;
And forth from that Heart, how its sympathy leapeth,
Till banquets for hunger are spread;
And the living arise from the dead!
Then, God bless the Heart of the People! and arm it
With boldness, and goodness, and vigor and light;
Till Force shall not frighten, till Fraud shall not charm it;
And, shaken by sinews of Right,
Shall crumble the idols of Might!
With boldness, and goodness, and vigor and light;
Till Force shall not frighten, till Fraud shall not charm it;
And, shaken by sinews of Right,
Shall crumble the idols of Might!
Oh! then shall the Heart of the People—an ocean
Of rivers, commingling, each spirit a wave—
Roll on in one choral, harmonic devotion,
The Throne of the Father to lave:
One Heaven, one Hope—as one Grave.
Of rivers, commingling, each spirit a wave—
Roll on in one choral, harmonic devotion,
The Throne of the Father to lave:
One Heaven, one Hope—as one Grave.
| Duganne's Poetical Works | |