 | The Conflict for Civil Rights |  |
III.
Heaven decrees no more, than what is just,
In that it has decreed its love for us.
Our trials and our sufferings, were ne'er decreed amiss
They seal the bond of years, long years of waking bliss.
Oh cast thine eyes of mercy on the misery of the land;
Destroying angel,—hold! enough! stay thy smiting hand!
Grant the supplications. Lord, like grateful incense borne,
Towards thy seat of Mercy, from all our hearts forlorn.
Father! thy sacred word, revives our hopes anew;
For steadfast faith and trust doth confirm it true.
In that it has decreed its love for us.
Our trials and our sufferings, were ne'er decreed amiss
They seal the bond of years, long years of waking bliss.
Oh cast thine eyes of mercy on the misery of the land;
Destroying angel,—hold! enough! stay thy smiting hand!
Grant the supplications. Lord, like grateful incense borne,
Towards thy seat of Mercy, from all our hearts forlorn.
Father! thy sacred word, revives our hopes anew;
10
“Be not dismay'd if evil sometimes seem
To overcome the good;—God will redeem
The right at last. His justice never fails
To make an even balance in his scales.”
To overcome the good;—God will redeem
The right at last. His justice never fails
To make an even balance in his scales.”
Emancipation's temple, on golden pillars cast,
Memorial of God's goodness in the past,
Memorial of our champion and chief friend,
And far as our great brotherhood shall extend
Remembrance of his great love is given,
Eternally by fame, by every breath from Heaven.
Upon that temple's dome is Sumner's name enshrined,
On every Freedman's heart, on the tablet of his mind.
Memorial of God's goodness in the past,
Memorial of our champion and chief friend,
And far as our great brotherhood shall extend
Remembrance of his great love is given,
Eternally by fame, by every breath from Heaven.
Upon that temple's dome is Sumner's name enshrined,
On every Freedman's heart, on the tablet of his mind.
“The sweet remembrance of the just
Shall flourish when he sleeps in dust.”
Shall flourish when he sleeps in dust.”
Yes!—Sumner's gone!—he's veiled from mortal sight,
He ne'er was wrong whose life was in the right.
In truth he was a man!—a legacy he leaves to all,
Oh say!—on whom shall Sumner's mantle fall?
Serene he lifts to heaven those closing eyes,
Then for the Freedman lisps a prayer and dies.
'Twas then the Freedman trembling, wept, “Farewell!”
For Freedom shrieked!—Great Sumner's knell!
“Oh ever hallowed be his verdant grave!
There let the laurel spread the cypress wave
Thou lovely Spring!—bestow to grace his tomb,
Thy sweetest fragrance, and thy earliest bloom;
There let the tears of heaven descend in balm!
There let the poet consecrate his palm!
Let honor ever bless the holy ground,
And shades of sainted heroes watch around.”
Fear not; for time unfolds an era new and bright
The day already brightens with a calm and joyous light.
Hear the voice of the people uniting in one cry,
And the shouts of the Freedman ringing out on high.
Freedom! Freedom! They're struggling for their rights,
The people are in tears from the saddening sights;
Without their rights, their freedom's but a name,
Naught but pariahs, branded with ill fame.
With tardy steps Celestial Justice comes;—but sure,
Unerring is her bolt; there's none that can endure
Where it falls, there will the ruin be.
The guilty shrink, but no cunning ne'er shall free
Them from eternal pain. The ascending glory of a happier day,
Bends despotism down and drags it to decay.
Oh! had a seraph from some distant sphere,
Some few years since have made a sojourn here,
He would have seen proscription in our southern lands,
And thronging slaves in droves and bands;
Human chattels! To be bartered and be sold,
God's image in exchange for filthy lucre;—gold!
Or sold on auction blocks within the crowded marts,
Piercing groans, streaming eyes, and rended, broken hearts.
Augmented by a conscious fact; his unrequited toil,
As 'fore the drivers cracking lash his blood bedewed the soil.
He ne'er was wrong whose life was in the right.
In truth he was a man!—a legacy he leaves to all,
Oh say!—on whom shall Sumner's mantle fall?
Serene he lifts to heaven those closing eyes,
Then for the Freedman lisps a prayer and dies.
'Twas then the Freedman trembling, wept, “Farewell!”
For Freedom shrieked!—Great Sumner's knell!
“Oh ever hallowed be his verdant grave!
There let the laurel spread the cypress wave
Thou lovely Spring!—bestow to grace his tomb,
Thy sweetest fragrance, and thy earliest bloom;
There let the tears of heaven descend in balm!
There let the poet consecrate his palm!
Let honor ever bless the holy ground,
And shades of sainted heroes watch around.”
Fear not; for time unfolds an era new and bright
11
Hear the voice of the people uniting in one cry,
And the shouts of the Freedman ringing out on high.
Freedom! Freedom! They're struggling for their rights,
The people are in tears from the saddening sights;
Without their rights, their freedom's but a name,
Naught but pariahs, branded with ill fame.
With tardy steps Celestial Justice comes;—but sure,
Unerring is her bolt; there's none that can endure
Where it falls, there will the ruin be.
The guilty shrink, but no cunning ne'er shall free
Them from eternal pain. The ascending glory of a happier day,
Bends despotism down and drags it to decay.
Oh! had a seraph from some distant sphere,
Some few years since have made a sojourn here,
He would have seen proscription in our southern lands,
And thronging slaves in droves and bands;
Human chattels! To be bartered and be sold,
God's image in exchange for filthy lucre;—gold!
Or sold on auction blocks within the crowded marts,
Piercing groans, streaming eyes, and rended, broken hearts.
Augmented by a conscious fact; his unrequited toil,
As 'fore the drivers cracking lash his blood bedewed the soil.
He would have seen the region bowing beneath its crimes,
And back to heaven flown. But now upon these times
The seraph might exclaim,—“Oh! what a change is this!
Methinks, I see a semblance here, of e'en supernal bliss
The vassals of the land from galling chains released;
And all the groans, the cries, and misery have ceased.
The earth is now resounding with their jocund glee
In strains of sweetest melody, the music of the free.
I see them marching on with bold, aspiring tread
In strides of civil progress. There is no fear or dread;
But all secure, they lift their banners and declare
Their rapturous joy. Let them now the way prepare
For equality and honor, for the boon of human rights,
For each and every privilege, and for those heavenly lights
To lead them in the way of truth.” He would say no more.
But should he come to-day, in sorrowing plight he'd soar;
And as Moses dashed the tables down upon Mt. Sinai's brow
When he beheld the Hebrew race, and saw them how
They worshiped the molten calf, their hands alone had cast.
So might the seraph, with a pealing trumpet blast
Proclaim!—“There is none whatever of inferior birth
That breathes or creeps upon this dust of earth,
And back to heaven flown. But now upon these times
The seraph might exclaim,—“Oh! what a change is this!
12
The vassals of the land from galling chains released;
And all the groans, the cries, and misery have ceased.
The earth is now resounding with their jocund glee
In strains of sweetest melody, the music of the free.
I see them marching on with bold, aspiring tread
In strides of civil progress. There is no fear or dread;
But all secure, they lift their banners and declare
Their rapturous joy. Let them now the way prepare
For equality and honor, for the boon of human rights,
For each and every privilege, and for those heavenly lights
To lead them in the way of truth.” He would say no more.
But should he come to-day, in sorrowing plight he'd soar;
And as Moses dashed the tables down upon Mt. Sinai's brow
When he beheld the Hebrew race, and saw them how
They worshiped the molten calf, their hands alone had cast.
So might the seraph, with a pealing trumpet blast
Proclaim!—“There is none whatever of inferior birth
That breathes or creeps upon this dust of earth,
| The Conflict for Civil Rights | |