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1866 AD (search for this): chapter 1
d, Counted her life-long losses gain, And made her own her sisters' pain; Or her who, in her greenwood shade, Heard the sharp call that Freedom made, And, answering, struck from Sappho's lyre Of love the Tyrtaean carmen's fire: Or that young girl,—Domremy's maid Revived a nobler cause to aid,— Shaking from warning finger-tips The doom of her apocalypse; Or her, who world-wide entrance gave To the log-cabin of the slave, Made all his want and sorrow known, And all earth's languages his own. 1866. George L. Stearns. No man rendered greater service to the cause of freedom than Major Stearns in the great struggle between invading slaveholders and the free settlers of Kansas. he has done the work of a true man,— Crown him, honor him, love him. Weep over him, tears of woman, Stoop manliest brows above him! O dusky mothers and daughters, Vigils of mourning keep for him! Up in the mountains, and down by the waters, Lift up your voices and weep for him! For the warmest of hearts is <
1851 AD (search for this): chapter 1
hange and fall; But that which shares the life of God With Him surviveth all. 1851. To——. Lines written after a summer day's Excursion. fair Nature's priestesly walks to trace The outlines of incarnate grace, The hymns of gods to hear! 1851. In Peace. A track Of moonlight on a quiet lake, Whose small waves on a silvgetful of the tricks of art, With pencil dipped alone in colors of the heart. 1851. Benedicite. God's love and peace be with thee, where Soe'er this soft autumsweet day, As thou mayst hear and I may say, I greet thee, dearest, far away. 1851. Kossuth. It can scarcely be necessary to say that there are elements in the noblest guest The Old World's wrong has given the New World of the West! 1851. To my old Schoolmaster. An Epistle not after the manner of Horace. Thesmade stuff,— Wise and simple, rich and poor, Thou hast known them all before! 1851. The cross. Richard Dillingham, a young member of the Society of Friends,<
1852 AD (search for this): chapter 1
ow didst thou, in thy generous youth, Bear witness to this blessed truth! Thy cross of suffering and of shame A staff within thy hands became, In paths where faith alone could see The Master's steps supporting thee. Thine was the seed-time; God alone Beholds the end of what is sown; Beyond our vision, weak and dim, The harvest-time is hid with Him. Yet, unforgotten where it lies, That seed of generous sacrifice, Though seeming on the desert cast, Shall rise with bloom and fruit at last. 1852. The hero. The hero of the incident related in this poem was Dr. Samuel Gridley Howe, the well-known philanthropist, who when a young man volunteered his aid in the Greek struggle for independence. “Oh for a knight like Bayard, Without reproach or fear; My light glove on his casque of steel, My love-knot on his spear! Oh for the white plume floating Sad Zutphen's field above,— The lion heart in battle, The woman's heart in love! Oh that man once more were manly, Woman's pride, an
1853 AD (search for this): chapter 1
rever groans a slave,— Wherever rise the peoples, Wherever sinks a throne, The throbbing heart of Freedom finds An answer in his own. Knight of a better era, Without reproach or fear! Said I not well that Bayards And Sidneys still are here? “ 1853. Rantoul. No more fitting inscription could be placed on the tombstone of Robert Rantoul than this: He died at his post in Congress, and his last words were a protest in the name of Democracy against the Fugitive-Slave Law. one day, along t lofty protest utters o'er; Through roaring wind and smiting wave It speaks his hate of wrong once more. Men of the North! your weak regret Is wasted here; arise and pay To freedom and to him your debt, By following where he led the way! “ 1853. William Forster. William Forster, of Norwich, England, died in East Tennessee, in the 1st month, 1854, while engaged in presenting to the governors of the States of this Union the address of his religious society on the evils of slavery. <
1854 AD (search for this): chapter 1
s worthy now to wear? Methinks the mound which marks thy bed Might bless our land and save, As rose, of old, to life the dead Who touched the prophet's grave! 1854. To Charles Sumner. if I have seemed more prompt to censure wrong Than praise the right; if seldom to thine ear My voice hath mingled with the exultant cheer Bor's host assailed, Stands strong as Truth, in greaves of granite mailed; And, tranquil-fronted, listening over all The tumult, hears the angels say, Well done! 1854. Burns. On Receiving a Sprig of heather in blossom. No more these simple flowers belong To Scottish maid and lover; Sown in the common soil of song, They bloo warm with smiles and blushes! Give lettered pomp to teeth of Time, So ‘Bonnie Doon’ but tarry; Blot out the Epic's stately rhyme, But spare his Highland Mary! 1854. To Georce B. Cheever. So spake Esaias: so, in words of flame, Tekoa's prophet-herdsman smote with blame The traffickers in men, and put to shame, All earth
1858 AD (search for this): chapter 1
uenched bolts that blazed in Hosea's hand! Not vainly shalt thou cast upon our years The solemn burdens of the Orient seers, And smite with truth a guilty nation's ears. Mightier was Luther's word Than Seckingen's mailed arm or Hutton's sword! 1858. To James T. Fields. On a blank leaf of Poems printed, not published. well thought! who would not rather hear The songs to Love and Friendship sung Than those which move the stranger's tongue, And feed his unselected ear? Our social joys lail-beat chiming far away, The cattle-low, at shut of day, The voice of God in leaf and breeze! Then lend thy hand, my wiser friend, And help me to the vales below, (In truth, I have not far to go,) Where sweet with flowers the fields extend. 1858. The memory of Burns. Read at the Boston celebration of the hundredth anniversary of the birth of Robert Burns, 25th 1st mo., 1859. In my absence these lines were read by Ralph Waldo Emerson. How sweetly come the holy psalms From saints a
1882 AD (search for this): chapter 1
lemn and tender, The music rose and fell With a joy akin to sadness And a greeting like farewell. With a sense of awe he listened To the voices sweet and young; The last of earth and the first of heaven Seemed in the songs they sung. And waiting a little longer For the wonderful change to come, He heard the Summoning Angel, Who calls God's children home And to him in a holier welcome Was the mystical meaning given Of the words of the blessed Master: ‘Of such is the kingdom of heaven!’ 1882. A welcome to Lowell. take our hands, James Russell Lowell, Our hearts are all thy own; To-day we bid thee welcome Not for ourselves alone. In the long years of thy absence Some of us have grown old, And some have passed the portals Of the Mystery untold; For the hands that cannot clasp thee, For the voices that are dumb, For each and all I bid thee A grateful welcome home! For Cedarcroft's sweet singer To the nine-fold Muses dear; For the Seer the winding Concord Paused by his door to
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
November 3rd, 1864 AD (search for this): chapter 1
and sense avail not To know thee henceforth as thou art, That all is well with thee forever I trust the instincts of my heart. Thine be the quiet habitations, Thine the green pastures, blossom-sown, And smiles of saintly recognition, As sweet and tenders thy own. Thou com'st not from the hush and shadow To meet us, but to thee we come, With thee we never can be strangers, And where thou art must still be home. 1863. Bryant on his Birthday. Mr. Bryant's seventieth birthday, November 3, 1864, was celebrated by a festival to which these verses were sent. we praise not now the poet's art, The rounded beauty of his song; Who weighs him from his life apart Must do his nobler nature wrong. Not for the eye, familiar grown With charms to common sight denied,— The marvellous gift he shares alone With him who walked on Rydal-side; Not for rapt hymn nor woodland lay, Too grave for smiles, too sweet for tears; We speak his praise who wears to-day The glory of his seventy years. Wh
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
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