 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
183
“DANIEL WEBSTER IS NO MORE!”
'T was Sabbath morning, still and clear,
And fair uprose the ruddy sun,
When burst upon our startled ear
The booming of the mournful gun.
And fair uprose the ruddy sun,
When burst upon our startled ear
The booming of the mournful gun.
The sound of fear smote every breast,
As, echoing round from hill to shore,
It broke the peaceful Sabbath-rest,
Proclaiming Webster was no more!
As, echoing round from hill to shore,
It broke the peaceful Sabbath-rest,
Proclaiming Webster was no more!
No more! and has that mighty mind
Sunk to the sleep that knows no dreams?
Has that effulgent sun declined,
That rayed our country with its beams?
Sunk to the sleep that knows no dreams?
Has that effulgent sun declined,
That rayed our country with its beams?
No more! and shall that glowing tongue,
Which thrilled the people by its tone,
When through their heart of hearts it rung,
Be left to dark decay alone?
Which thrilled the people by its tone,
When through their heart of hearts it rung,
Be left to dark decay alone?
And must that glance of living light,
Whose meteor brightness waked our fear,
Fade, all obscured, in deepest night,
And leave us, dazzled, groping here?
Whose meteor brightness waked our fear,
Fade, all obscured, in deepest night,
And leave us, dazzled, groping here?
184
No more! Not so,—on history's page,
Inscribed in characters of flame,
A mark for every coming age,
Is seen the glory of his name.
Inscribed in characters of flame,
A mark for every coming age,
Is seen the glory of his name.
His acts shall live, his voice be heard,
In mightier cadence than of old;
Its eloquence embalms each word,
E'en though his tongue in death be cold.
In mightier cadence than of old;
Its eloquence embalms each word,
E'en though his tongue in death be cold.
The mighty soul has riven the clay
That bound it with encumbering chains;
The earthly form may know decay,
The heavenly principle remains,
That bound it with encumbering chains;
The earthly form may know decay,
The heavenly principle remains,
To guide the patriot heart aright,
When waves of harsh discordance rise,
To be a beacon ever bright
When angry clouds enshroud our skies.
When waves of harsh discordance rise,
To be a beacon ever bright
When angry clouds enshroud our skies.
Then say not “Webster is no more;”—
That from our counsels he has fled;—
More living still than e'er before,
Is he—the mighty—mourned as dead!
That from our counsels he has fled;—
More living still than e'er before,
Is he—the mighty—mourned as dead!
| Rhymes with reason and without | |