The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott Edited by his Son Edwin Elliott ... A New and Revised Edition: Two Volumes |
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THE SPIRIT OF THE FIRST EMIGRANT. |
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 | The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott |  |
137
THE SPIRIT OF THE FIRST EMIGRANT.
Upon the dreadful battle-field, methought,High on Breed's Hill, after the fight was done,
Amid the dead, yet fearing not the dead,
I stood before a form, that sadden'd night.
“Featureless presence! Are thy tresses mist?
Or hast thou lineaments? The blast unveils thee,
Visage of mystery! and swirls the cloud
That seems thy carpet.” From the earth it rose
Slow, from a nameless tomb, with human gore
Polluted in the fight of yesterday,
Nor scatter'd the red death-dews from a flower;
A dim form, mingling with the tempest's light,
All indistinct, as the moon's shrouded beams,
Seen thro' the snow flakes, when they fluttering fall,
Muffling the mountain echoes silently.
The seeming brow was turn'd to heav'n, the hands
In deprecation waved. “Cloud-involved moon!
Stars, that from earth's blood-bolter'd face withdraw
Your blasted beams,” exclaim'd a hollow voice;
“For peace I cross'd the sable rolling seas,
Left country, friends, all, but my God, for peace
To worship Him in truth and purity.
I first, from persecution flying, rear'd
The white man's home amid Columbian woods,
138
Of Nature. There, where bright Connecticut
Waters a sin-found Eden, with my sons
I kneel'd, and gave the God of deserts praise.
I kiss'd their hands; I bade them live in love,
And sometimes think of me; and then I slept.
They wept; they dug, near ocean's echoing shore,
My narrow bed of rest; and unknown flowers
Bloom'd o'er it, drooping lonely. But the blood
Of murder hath profaned the shuddering tomb,
And call'd the slumberer from his bed of worms.
In vain for peace, for peace I cross'd the seas,
And vainly left, far east, my mother's grave;
Nor may my children's children dwell in peace,
Nor worship God in truth and purity.”
| The Poetical Works of Ebenezer Elliott | |