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Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 3, Chapter 6: third mission to England.—1846. (search)
ir, Originating everywhere The expansive force without a sound That whirled a hundred wheels around, Herself meanwhile as calm and still As the bare crown of Prospect Hill; Somerville, Mass. A noble woman, brave and apt, Cumaea's sybil not more rapt, Who might, with those fair tresses shorn, The Maid of Orleans' casque have worn, Herself the Joan of our Ark, For every shaft a shining mark. And there, too, was Eliza Follen, Who scatters fruit-creating pollen Where'er a blossom she can find Hardy enough for Truth's north wind, Each several point of all her face Tremblingly bright with the inward grace, As if all motion gave it light Like phosphorescent seas at night. There jokes our Edmund, plainly son E. Quincy. Of him who bearded Jefferson,— A non-resistant by conviction, But with a bump in contradiction, So that whene'er it gets a chance His pen delights to play the lance, And—you may doubt it or believe it— Full at the head of Joshua Leavitt The very calumet he'd launch, And <