Amidst the storm they sang; this the stars heard and the sea!
And the sounding aisles of the dim wood rang to the anthems of the
free!
The ocean-eagle soared from his nest by the white waves' foam,
And the rocking pines of the forest roared;--this was their welcome
home.
There were men with hoary hair amidst that pilgrim band;
Why had they come to wither there, away from their childhood's
land?
There was woman's fearless eye, lit by her deep love's truth;
There was manhood's brow serenely high, and the fiery heart of
youth.
What sought they thus afar? Bright jewels of the mine?
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?--They sought a faith's pure
shrine!
Aye, call it holy ground, the soil where first they trod!
They have left unstained what there they found,--freedom to worship
God!
THE PRESENT CRISIS[25]
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL
When a deed is done for freedom, through the broad earth's aching
breast
Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from East to West;
And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb,
To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime
Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny stem of time.
Pages:
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227