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 | The Poetical Works of James Madison Bell |  |
That truth, than fiction, is more strange,
There's not the shadow of a doubt,
When we regard the wondrous change
One short decade has brought about.
The leopard may have changed his spots,
Or the Ethiop changed his skin,
And would far less excelled our thoughts,
Than those great changes which have been.
For nought exists in earth or air
Or ocean's depths of endless shade,
With which we justly can compare
The changes of the last decade.
There's not the shadow of a doubt,
When we regard the wondrous change
One short decade has brought about.
The leopard may have changed his spots,
Or the Ethiop changed his skin,
And would far less excelled our thoughts,
Than those great changes which have been.
For nought exists in earth or air
Or ocean's depths of endless shade,
With which we justly can compare
The changes of the last decade.
Had one deep-skilled in mystic lore,
Some favored heir or providence,
Proclaimed abroad from door to door
The last decade's unborn events,
The multitudes who may have heard
His auguries, though chastely clad,
Would have pronounced them most absurd,
And their prognostic author mad.
Or, had an angel of the sky
Left for a time his watch and ward,
And from some towering mountain high
Cried mightily, thus saith the Lord!
Some favored heir or providence,
Proclaimed abroad from door to door
The last decade's unborn events,
The multitudes who may have heard
His auguries, though chastely clad,
Would have pronounced them most absurd,
And their prognostic author mad.
Or, had an angel of the sky
Left for a time his watch and ward,
And from some towering mountain high
Cried mightily, thus saith the Lord!
126
Columbia's sons, a million strong
Shall panoply themselves for war,
And o'er their hills and vales ere long
To battle rush from near and far!
The century bound and fettered slave
Shall grasp the hilt of freedom's sword
And rush amid the struggling brave
And write his liberties restored;
He shall have faith where others doubt
And onward press to lead the van,
Till slavery's stain he washes out
In treason's gore, and stands a man.
Shall panoply themselves for war,
And o'er their hills and vales ere long
To battle rush from near and far!
The century bound and fettered slave
Shall grasp the hilt of freedom's sword
And rush amid the struggling brave
And write his liberties restored;
He shall have faith where others doubt
And onward press to lead the van,
Till slavery's stain he washes out
In treason's gore, and stands a man.
And ere one full decade has passed
The land redeemed shall proudly see,
Of slavery's relics e'en the last
Engulfed in freedom's boundless sea.
The land redeemed shall proudly see,
Of slavery's relics e'en the last
Engulfed in freedom's boundless sea.
Would we have deemed the message true,
Brought by the heavenly ward so near,
And gave to it that reverence due
A message from the glory sphere?
We might have lent a patient ear
And thus the message have received,
We might have felt a sense of fear,
But never would our hearts believed:
Brought by the heavenly ward so near,
And gave to it that reverence due
A message from the glory sphere?
We might have lent a patient ear
And thus the message have received,
We might have felt a sense of fear,
But never would our hearts believed:
It would have been impossible,
So wedded were we to the wrong,
Our hearts had grown invulnerable
To all appeals however strong.
So wedded were we to the wrong,
Our hearts had grown invulnerable
To all appeals however strong.
No message sent from hell or heaven,
Brought by the living or the dead,
Could e'er the mighty spell have riven
By which dark wrong and we were wed.
Brought by the living or the dead,
Could e'er the mighty spell have riven
By which dark wrong and we were wed.
127
Our natures had been schooled to look
Adversely on each phrase of right,
Until our hearts could proudly brook
The truth made bare in reason's light—
Adversely on each phrase of right,
Until our hearts could proudly brook
The truth made bare in reason's light—
For error's potent chords had twined
About our hearts from early age,
Till like the tillers of the mind
Our guides were they in every stage—
We could not comprehend the thought,
That freedom was of native mold,
Heaven inspired and heaven taught
Which neither chains nor cells can hold:
Therefore we could not reconcile
The seeming gross absurdity,
That he, the slave and long reviled,
Nursed yet the germs of liberty.
About our hearts from early age,
Till like the tillers of the mind
Our guides were they in every stage—
We could not comprehend the thought,
That freedom was of native mold,
Heaven inspired and heaven taught
Which neither chains nor cells can hold:
Therefore we could not reconcile
The seeming gross absurdity,
That he, the slave and long reviled,
Nursed yet the germs of liberty.
If not how could he rise above
His present status of disgrace,
Or what incentive could him move
The all auspicious to embrace?
But changes of the recent past
Have swept our theories away,
And crowned with wonders unsurpassed
The radiant glories of to-day.
His present status of disgrace,
Or what incentive could him move
The all auspicious to embrace?
But changes of the recent past
Have swept our theories away,
And crowned with wonders unsurpassed
The radiant glories of to-day.
| The Poetical Works of James Madison Bell | |