Stupendous monuments of God's right hand!1
Lifting your summits upwards to the skies,
And holding converse with their mysteries,—
There dress'd in living garniture ye stand,
The pride and wonder of our native land.
My soul is welling to my very eyes—
My every pulse leaps with a strange surprise,
As now your huge dimensions I command.
O! ye do shame the proudest works of Art,—
Tower, temple, pyramid and chiselled pile;
For these are but the pigmy feats of Toil,
The playthings of Decay—But ye impart
Lessons of infinite wisdom to the heart,
And stand in nature's strength, which Time cannot despoil.
So inspiring was the free mountain air that all worthy and noble objects seemed easy and possible of accomplishment, and when, at the beginning of 1829, Mr. Garrison
indulged in a retrospect of the past year, and looked forward to the work of the new one, the election of Jackson
was the only shadow upon the picture, and all else was bright and cheering to his vision.
Meanwhile, Benjamin Lundy
was anxiously watching the course of his young disciple, whose heart he had seemed to touch, and whose soul he had kindled, beyond that of any other man whom he had encountered in all his pilgrimages, north, south, east, or west.
There is a pathetic picture of his past disappointments and his present anxious hope in the greeting which he gave the Journal of the Times
in the Genius
The editor of this paper has shewn a laudable disposition2 to advocate the claims of the poor distressed African upon our sympathy and justice; and if he continue to do so, his talents will render him a most valuable coadjutor in this holy undertaking.
Greatly, indeed, shall we rejoice, if even one, faithful, like “Abdiel,” can be “among the faithless found,” who, after having professed loudly, have generally abandoned their post, and left the unfortunate negro to his fate.
There are many who are ready to acknowledge—O yes, they will acknowledge (good honest souls!) with due frankness and alacrity—that something should be done for the abolition of slavery.