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1869 AD (search for this): chapter 1
n slope whose ghostly dead, Unmindful of the gray exorcist's ban, Walk, unappeased, the chambered Vatican, And draw the curtains of Napoleon's bed! God's providence is not blind, but, full of eyes, It searches all the refuges of lies; And in His time and way, the accursed things Before whose evil feet thy battle-gage Has clashed defiance from hot youth to age Shall perish. All men shall be priests and kings, One royal brotherhood, one church made free By love, which is the law of liberty! 1869. To Lydia Maria child, On Reading her Poem in the standard. Mrs. Child wrote her lines, beginning, Again the trees are clothed in vernal green, May 24, 1859, on the first anniversary of Ellis Gray Loring's death, but did not publish them for some years afterward, when I first read them, or I could not have made the reference which I did to the extinction of slavery. the sweet spring day is glad with music, But through it sounds a sadder strain; The worthiest of our narrowing circle S
1870 AD (search for this): chapter 1
t eyelids ever rise? O friend! no proof beyond this yearning, This outreach of our hearts, we need; God will not mock the hope He giveth, No love He prompts shall vainly plead. Then let us stretch our hands in darkness, And call our loved ones o'er and o'er; Some day their arms shall close about us, And the old voices speak once more. No dreary splendors wait our coming Where rapt ghost sits from ghost apart; Homeward we go to Heaven's thanksgiving. The harvest-gathering of the heart. 1870. The singer. This poem was written on the death of Alice Cary. Her sister Phoebe, heart-broken by her loss, followed soon after. Noble and richly gifted, lovely in person and character, they left behind them only friends and admirers. years since (but names to me before), Two sisters sought at eve my door; Two song-birds wandering from their nest, A gray old farm-house in the West. How fresh of life the younger one, Half smiles, half tears, like rain in sun! Her gravest mood could
1871 AD (search for this): chapter 1
gh if there alone be love, And mortal need can ne'er outgrow What it is waiting to bestow! O white soul! from that far-off shore Float some sweet song the waters o'er, Our faith confirm, our fears dispel, With the old voice we loved so well! 1871. How Mary Grew. These lines were in answer to an invitation to hear a lecture of Mary Grew, of Philadelphia, before the Boston Radical Club. The reference in the last stanza is to an essay on Sappho by T. W. Higginson, read at the club ther her graceful hostess tell The silver-voiced oracle Who lately through her parlors spoke As through Dodona's sacred oak, A wiser truth than any told By Sappho's lips of ruddy gold,— The way to make the world anew, Is just to grow—as Mary Grew! 1871. Sumner. I am not one who has disgraced beauty of sentiment by deformity of conduct, or the maxims of a freeman by the actions of a slave; but, by the grace of God, I have kept my life unsullied. Milton's Defence of the people of England.
1874 AD (search for this): chapter 1
orgotten be the stain removed, Her righted record shows it not! The lifted sword above her shield With jealous care shall guard his fame; The pine-tree on her ancient field To all the winds shall speak his name. The marble image of her son Her loving hands shall yearly crown, And from her pictured Pantheon His grand, majestic face look down. O State so passing rich before, Who now shall doubt thy highest claim? The world that counts thy jewels o'er Shall longest pause at Sumner's name! 1874. Thiers. I. Fate summoned, in gray-bearded age, to act A history stranger than his written fact, Him, who portrayed the splendor and the gloom Of that great hour when throne and altar fell With long death-groan which still is audible. He, when around the walls of Paris rung The Prussian bugle like the blast of doom, And every ill which follows unblest war Maddened all France from Finistere to Var, The weight of fourscore from his shoulders flung, And guided Freedom in the path he saw L
1877 AD (search for this): chapter 1
ps, the horn Of Roland wound once more to rouse and warn, The old voice filled the air! His last brave word Not vainly France to all her boundaries stirred. Strong as in life, he still for Freedom wrought, As the dead Cid at red Toloso fought. 1877. Fitz-Greene Halleck. At the Unveiling of his Statue. among their graven shapes to whom Thy civic wreaths belong, O city of his love, make room For one whose gift was song. Not his the soldier's sword to wield, Nor his the helm of state, Norof praise must soon be dumb, Our grateful eyes be dim; O brothers of the days to come, Take tender charge of him! New hands the wires of song may sweep, New voices challenge fame; But let no moss of years o'ercreep The lines of Halleck's name. 1877. William Francis Bartlett. Oh, well may Essex sit forlorn Beside her sea-blown shore; Her well beloved, her noblest born, Is hers in life no more! No lapse of years can render less Her memory's sacred claim; No fountain of forgetfulness Can w
1878 AD (search for this): chapter 1
n Earth, as if on evil dreams, Looks back upon her wars, And the white light of Christ outstreams From the red disk of Mars, His fame who led the stormy van Of battle well may cease, But never that which crowns the man Whose victory was Peace. Mourn, Essex, on thy sea-blown shore Thy beautiful and brave, Whose failing hand the olive bore, Whose dying lips forgave! Let age lament the youthful chief, And tender eyes be dim; The tears are more of joy than grief That fall for one like him! 1878. Bayard Taylor. I ‘and where now, Bayard, will thy footsteps tend?’ My sister asked our guest one winter's day. Smiling he answered in the Friends' sweet way Common to both: “Wherever thou shalt send! What wouldst thou have me see for thee?” She laughed, Her dark eyes dancing in the wood-fire's glow: “Loffoden isles, the Kilpis, and the low, Unsetting sun on Finmark's fishing-craft.” ‘All these and more I soon shall see for thee!’ He answered cheerily: and he kept his pled
1879 AD (search for this): chapter 1
toried stream forget, Nor winds that blow round lonely Cedarcroft; Let the home voices greet him in the far, Strange land that holds him; let the messages Of love pursue him o'er the chartless seas And unmapped vastness of his unknown star! Love's language, heard beyond the loud discourse Of perishable fame, in every sphere Itself interprets; and its utterance here Somewhere in God's unfolding universe- Shall reach our traveller, softening the surprise Of his rapt gaze on unfamiliar skies! 1879. Our Autocrat. Read at the breakfast given in honor of Dr. Holmes by the publishers of the Atlantic Monthly, December 3, 1879. His laurels fresh from song and lay, Romance, art, science, rich in all, And young of heart, how dare we say We keep his seventieth festival? No sense is here of loss or lack; Before his sweetness and his light The dial holds its shadow back, The charmed hours delay their flight. His still the keen analysis Of men and moods, electric wit, Free play of mirt
December 3rd, 1879 AD (search for this): chapter 1
lds him; let the messages Of love pursue him o'er the chartless seas And unmapped vastness of his unknown star! Love's language, heard beyond the loud discourse Of perishable fame, in every sphere Itself interprets; and its utterance here Somewhere in God's unfolding universe- Shall reach our traveller, softening the surprise Of his rapt gaze on unfamiliar skies! 1879. Our Autocrat. Read at the breakfast given in honor of Dr. Holmes by the publishers of the Atlantic Monthly, December 3, 1879. His laurels fresh from song and lay, Romance, art, science, rich in all, And young of heart, how dare we say We keep his seventieth festival? No sense is here of loss or lack; Before his sweetness and his light The dial holds its shadow back, The charmed hours delay their flight. His still the keen analysis Of men and moods, electric wit, Free play of mirth, and tenderness To heal the slightest wound from it. And his the pathos touching all Life's sins and sorrows and regrets, Its
1880 AD (search for this): chapter 1
ns bare Their foreheads to diviner air, Fit emblem of enduring fame, One lofty summit keeps thy name. For thee the cosmic forces did The rearing of that pyramid, The prescient ages shaping with Fire, flood, and frost thy monolith. Sunrise and sunset lay thereon With hands of light their benison, The stars of midnight pause to set Their jewels in its coronet. And evermore that mountain mass Seems climbing from the shadowy pass To light, as if to manifest Thy nobler self, thy life at best! 1880. Wordsworth. Written on a blank leaf of his Memoirs. dear friends, who read the world aright, And in its common forms discern A beauty and a harmony The many never learn! Kindred in soul of him who found In simple flower and leaf and stone The impulse of the sweetest lays Our Saxon tongue has known,— Accept this record of a life As sweet and pure, as calm and good, As a long day of blandest June In green field and in wood. How welcome to our ears, long pained By strife of sect and pa
1881 AD (search for this): chapter 1
fice Seek out its great allies; Good must find good by gravitation sure, And love with love endure. And so, since thou hast passed within the gate Whereby awhile I wait, I give blind grief and blinder sense the lie: Thou hast not lived to die! 1881. In memory. James T. Fields. As a guest who may not stay Long and sad farewells to say Glides with smiling face away, Of the sweetness and the zest Of thy happy life possessed Thou hast left us at thy best. Warm of heart and clear of brain,human heart of thee; Let the mortal only be Clothed in immortality. And when fall our feet as fell Thine upon the asphodel, Let thy old smile greet us well; Proving in a world of bliss What we fondly dream in this,— Love is one with holiness! 1881. Wilson. Read at the Massachusetts Club on the seventieth anniversary of the birthday of Vice-President Wilson, February 16, 1882. the lowliest born of all the land, He wrung from Fate's reluctant hand The gifts which happier boyhood cla
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