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Thames (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 2
therhood, Like tipplers answering Father Mathew's call; The sullen Spaniard, and the mad-cap Gaul, The bull-dog Briton, yielding but with life, The Yankee swaggering with his bowie-knife, The Russ, from banquets with the vulture shared, The blood still dripping from his amber beard, Quitting their mad Berserker dance to hear The dull, meek droning of a drab-coat seer; Leaving the sport of Presidents and Kings, Where men for dice each titled gambler flings, To meet alternate on the Seine and Thames, For tea and gossip, like old country dames! No! let the cravens plead the weakling's cant, Let Cobden cipher, and let Vincent rant, Let Sturge preach peace to democratic throngs, And Burritt, stammering through his hundred tongues, Repeat, in all, his ghostly lessons o'er, Timed to the pauses of the battery's roar; Check Ban or Kaiser with the barricade Of Olive-leaves and Resolutions made, Spike guns with pointed Scripture-texts, and hope To capsize navies with a windy trope; Still shall
Vienna (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
works in all things; all obey His first propulsion from the night: Wake thou and watch! the world is gray With morning light! 1846. The peace convention at Brussels. still in thy streets, O Paris! doth the stain Of blood defy the cleansing autumn rain; Still breaks the smoke Messina's ruins through, And Naples mourns that new Bartholomew, When squalid beggary, for a dole of bread, At a crowned murderer's beck of license, fed The yawning trenches with her noble dead; Still, doomed Vienna, through thy stately halls The shell goes crashing and the red shot falls, And, leagued to crush thee, on the Danube's side, The bearded Croat and Bosniak spearman ride; Still in that vale where Himalaya's snow Melts round the cornfields and the vines below, The Sikh's hot cannon, answering ball for ball, Flames in the breach of Moultan's shattered wall; On Chenab's side the vulture seeks the slain, And Sutlej paints with blood its banks again. ‘What folly, then,’ the faithless critic cries
Providence, R. I. (Rhode Island, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
at the cost Of some weak friendships, or some paltry prize Of name or place, and more than I have lost Have gained in wider reach of sympathies, And free communion with the good and wise; May God forbid that I should ever boast Such easy self-denial, or repine That the strong pulse of health no more is mine? That, overworn at noonday, I must yield To other hands the gleaning of the field; A tired on-looker through the day's decline. For blest beyond deserving still, and knowing That kindly Providence its care is showing In the withdrawal as in the bestowing, Scarcely I dare for more or less to pray. Beautiful yet for me this autumn day Melts on its sunset hills; and, far away, For me the Ocean lifts its solemn psalm, To me the pine-woods whisper; and for me Yon river, winding through its vales of calm, By greenest banks, with asters purple-starred, And gentian bloom and golden-rod made gay, Flows down in silent gladness to the sea, Like a pure spirit to its great reward! Nor lack I f
Los Angeles (California, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
ires; While of thy wealth of noble deeds, Thy homes of peace, thy votes unsold, The love that pleads for human needs, The wrong redressed, but half is told! We read each felon's chronicle, His acts, his words, his gallows-mood; We know the single sinner well And not the nine and ninety good. Yet if, on daily scandals fed, We seem at times to doubt thy worth, We know thee still, when all is said, The best and dearest spot on earth. From the warm Mexic Gulf, or where Belted with flowers Los Angeles Basks in the semi-tropic air, To where Katahdin's cedar trees Are dwarfed and bent by Northern winds, Thy plenty's horn is yearly filled; Alone, the rounding century finds Thy liberal soil by free hands tilled. A refuge for the wronged and poor, Thy generous heart has borne the blame That, with them, through thy open door, The old world's evil outcasts came. But, with thy just and equal rule, And labor's need and breadth of lands, Free press and rostrum, church and school, Thy sure, i
Brazil (Brazil) (search for this): chapter 2
form To smite them clear; that Nature must The balance of her powers adjust, Though with the earthquake and the storm. God reigns, and let the earth rejoice! I bow before His sterner plan. Dumb are the organs of my choice; He speaks in battle's stormy voice, His praise is in the wrath of man! Yet, surely as He lives, the day Of peace He promised shall be ours, To fold the flags of war, and lay Its sword and spear to rust away, And sow its ghastly fields with flowers! 1860. Freedom in Brazil. with clearer light, Cross of the South, shine forth In blue Brazilian skies; And thou, O river, cleaving half the earth From sunset to sunrise, From the great mountains to the Atlantic waves Thy joy's long anthem pour. Yet a few years (God make them less!) and slaves Shall shame thy pride no more. No fettered feet thy shaded margins press; But all men shall walk free Where thou, the high-priest of the wilderness, Hast wedded sea to sea. And thou, great-hearted ruler, through whose mouth
Austria (Austria) (search for this): chapter 2
mer's part was acted well, While Rome, with steel and fire begirt, Before thy crusade fell! Her death-groans answered to thy prayer; Thy chant, the drum and bugle-call; Thy lights, the burning villa's glare; Thy beads, the shell and ball! Let Austria clear thy way, with hands Foul from Ancona's cruel sack, And Naples, with his dastard bands Of murderers, lead thee back! Rome's lips are dumb; the orphan's wail, The mother's shriek, thou mayst not hear Above the faithless Frenchman's hail, Ththe Mount. Its giver was landless, His raiment was poor, No jewelled tiara His fishermen wore; No incense, no lackeys, no riches, no home, No Swiss guards! We order things better at Rome. So bless us the strong hand, and curse us the weak; Let Austria's vulture have food for her beak; Let the wolf-whelp of Naples play Bomba again, With his death-cap of silence, and halter, and chain; Put reason, and justice, and truth under ban; For the sin unforgiven is freedom for man! 1858. Italy. a
Runnymede (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 2
The free heart of an honest man Than crosier or the sword. Go, let your blinded Church rehearse The lesson it has learned so well; It moves not with its prayer or curse The gates of heaven or hell. Let the State scaffold rise again; Did Freedom die when Russell died? Forget ye how the blood of Vane From earth's green bosom cried? The great hearts of your olden time Are beating with you, full and strong; All holy memories and sublime And glorious round ye throng. The bluff, bold men of Runnymede Are with ye still in times like these; The shades of England's mighty dead, Your cloud of witnesses! The truths ye urge are borne abroad By every wind and every tide; The voice of Nature and of God Speaks out upon your side. The weapons which your hands have found Are those which Heaven itself has wrought, Light, Truth, and Love; your battle-ground The free, broad field of Thought. No partial, selfish purpose breaks The simple beauty of your plan, Nor lie from throne or altar shakes You
Finland (Finland) (search for this): chapter 2
human hearts, by love of Him controlled, Runs now that path of God! 1856. The conquest of Finland. Joseph Sturge, with a companion, Thomas Harvey, has been visiting the shores of Finland, tFinland, to ascertain the amount of mischief and loss to poor and peaceable sufferers, occasioned by the gunboats of the allied squadrons in the late war, with a view to obtaining relief for them.—Friends' Revged beeves and grain, The spoil of flake and storehouse, The good ship brings again. And so to Finland's sorrow The sweet amend is made, As if the healing hand of Christ Upon her wounds were laid! “ved the iron tempest That thundered on our shore; But when did kindness fail to find The key to Finland's door? No more from Aland's ramparts Shall warning signal come, Nor startled Sweaborg hear agagle The Dove of Peace shall rest; And in the mouths of cannon The sea-bird make her nest. For Finland, looking seaward, No coming foe shall scan; And the holy bells of Abo Shall ring, Good — will <
Tennessee (Tennessee, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
th how! As on the thronged, unrestful town The patience of the moon looks down, I wait to hear, beside the wire, The voices of its tongues of fire. Slow, doubtful, faint, they seem at first: Be strong, my heart, to know the worst! Hark! there the Alleghanies spoke; That sound from lake and prairie broke, That sunset-gun of triumph rent The silence of a continent! That signal from Nebraska sprung, This, from Nevada's mountain tongue! Is that thy answer, strong and free, O loyal heart of Tennessee? What strange, glad voice is that which calls From Wagner's grave and Sumter's walls? From Mississippi's fountain-head A sound as of the bison's tread! There rustled freedom's Charter Oak! In that wild burst the Ozarks spoke! Cheer answers cheer from rise to set Of sun. We have a country yet! The praise, O God, be thine alone! Thou givest not for bread a stone; Thou hast not led us through the night To blind us with returning light; Not through the furnace have we passed, To perish at it
Geneva, N. Y. (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
beaded with its red and ghastly dew The vines and olives of the Holy Land; The shrieking curses of the hunted Jew; The white-sown bones of heretics, where'er They sank beneath the Crusade's holy spear; Goa's dark dungeons, Malta's sea-washed cell, Where with the hymns the ghostly fathers sung Mingled the groans by subtle torture wrung, Heaven's anthem blending with the shriek of hell! The midnight of Bartholomew, the stake Of Smithfield, and that thrice-accursed flame Which Calvin kindled by Geneva's lake; New England's scaffold, and the priestly sneer Which mocked its victims in that hour of fear, When guilt itself a human tear might claim,— Bear witness, O Thou wronged and merciful One! That Earth's most hateful crimes have in Thy name been done! Iv. Thank God! that I have lived to see the time When the great truth begins at last to find An utterance from the deep heart of mankind, Earnest and clear, that all Revenge is Crime, That man is holier than a creed, that all Restraint
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