A Wreath Of Virginia Bay Leaves - Part 14
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Part 14

So came the names that light my pious Song-- Came bearing Union forged in high debates-- A sun-illuminated Shield, and strong, To guard these mighty States.

The Shield sent to the son of Peleus glowed With hammered wonders, all without a flaw; The Shield of Union in its splendor showed The Compromise of Law.

And as the Epic lifts a form sublime For all the Ages on its plinth of gold, So does our Story, challenging all time, Its crowning shape uphold!

[Footnote 12: This fine idea is borrowed from one of the addresses of Mr. Winthrop, the orator of the occasion.]

XVII.

PATER PATRae.

Achilles came from Homer's Jove-like brain, Pavilioned 'mid his ships where Thetis trod; But he whose image dominates this plain Came from the hand of G.o.d!

Yet, of his life, which shall all time adorn I dare not sing; to try the theme would be To drink as 'twere that Scandinavian Horn Whose tip was in the Sea.

I bow my head and go upon my ways, Who tells that story can but gild the gold-- Could I pile Alps on Apennines of praise The tale would not be told.

Not his the blade which lyric fables say Cleft Pyrenees from ridge to nether bed, But his the sword which cleared the Sacred Way For Freedom's feet to tread.

Not Caesar's genius nor Napoleon's skill Gave him proud mast'ry o'er the trembling earth; But great in honesty, and sense and will-- He was the "man of worth."

He knew not North, nor South, nor West, nor East: Childless himself, Father of States he stood, Strong and sagacious as a Knight turned Priest, And vowed to deeds of good.

Compared with all Earth's heroes I may say He was, with even half his virtues hid, Greater in what his hand refrained than they Were great in what they did.

And thus his image dominates all time, Uplifted like the everlasting dome Which rises in a miracle sublime Above eternal Rome.

On Rome's once blooming plain where'er we stray That dome majestic rises on the view, Its Cross a-glow with every wandering ray That shines along the Blue.

So his vast image shadows all the lands, So holds forever Man's adoring eye, And o'er the Union which he left it stands Our Cross against the sky!

XVIII.

THE FLAG OF THE REPUBLIC.

My harp soon ceases; but I here allege Its strings are in my heart and tremble there: My Song's last strain shall be a claim and pledge-- A claim, a pledge, a prayer!

I stand, as stood, in storied days of old, Vas...o...b..lboa staring o'er bright seas When fair Pacific's tide of limpid gold Surged up against his knees.

For haughty Spain, her banner in his hand, He claimed a New World, sea, and plain, and crag-- I claim the Future's Ocean for this land And here I plant her flag!

Float out, oh flag, from Freedom's burnished lance!

Float out, oh flag, in Red, and White, and Blue!

The Union's colors and the hues of France Commingled on the view!

Float out, oh flag, and all thy splendors wake!

Float out, oh flag, above our Hero's bed!

Float out, oh flag, and let thy blazon take New glories from the dead!

Float out, oh flag, o'er Freedom's n.o.blest types!

Float out, oh flag, all free of blot or stain!

Float out, oh flag, the "Roses" in thy stripes Forever blent again!

Float out, oh flag, and float in every clime!

Float out, oh flag, and blaze on every sea!

Float out, oh flag, and float as long as Time And s.p.a.ce themselves shall be!

Float out, oh flag, o'er Freedom's onward march!

Float out, oh flag, in Freedom's starry sheen!

Float out, oh flag, above the Union's arch Where Washington is seen!

Float out, oh flag, above a smiling Land!

Float out, oh flag, above a peaceful sod!

Float out, oh flag, thy staff within the hand Beneficent of G.o.d!

XIX.

THE SOUTH IN THE UNION.

An ancient Chronicle has told That, in the famous days of old, In Antioch under ground The self-same lance was found-- Unbitten by corrosive rust-- The lance the Roman soldier thrust In CHRIST'S bare side upon the Tree; And that it brought A mighty spell To those who fought The Infidel And mighty victory.

And so this day To you I say-- Speaking for millions of true Southern men-- In words that have no undertow-- I say, and say agen: Come weal, or woe, Should this Republic ever fight, By land, or sea, For present law, or ancient right The South will be As was that lance, Albeit not found Hid under ground But in the forefront of the first advance!

'Twill fly a pennon fair As ever kissed the air, On it, for every glance, Shall blaze majestic France Blent with our Hero's name In everlasting flame, And written, fair in gold, This legend on its fold: Give us back the ties of Yorktown!

Perish all the modern hates!

Let us stand together, brothers, In defiance of the Fates; FOR THE SAFETY OF THE UNION IS THE SAFETY OF THE STATES!

TO ALEXANDER GALT, THE SCULPTOR.

Alas! he's cold!

Cold as the marble which his fingers wrought-- Cold, but not dead; for each embodied thought Of his, which he from the Ideal brought To live in stone, a.s.sures him immortality of fame.

Galt is not dead!

Only too soon We saw him climb Up to his pedestal, where equal Time And coming generations, in the noon Of his full reputation, yet shall stand To pay just homage to his n.o.ble name.

Our Poet of the Quarries only sleeps, He cleft his pathway up the future's steeps, And now rests from his labors.

Hence 'tis I say; For him there is no death, Only the stopping of the pulse and breath-- But simple breath is not the all in all; Man hath it but in common with the brutes-- Life is in action and in brave pursuits!

By what we dream, and having dreamt, dare do, We hold our places in the world's large view, And still have part in the affairs of men When the long sleep is on us.

He dreamt and made his dreams perpetual things Fit for the rugged cell of penitential saints, Or sumptuous halls of Kings, And showed himself a Poet in the Art: He chiselled Lyrics with a touch so fine, With such a tender beauty of their own, That rarest songs broke out from every line And verse was audible in voiceless stone!

His Psyche, soft in beauty and in grace, Waits for her lover in the Western breeze, And a swift smile irradiates her face, As though she heard him whisper in the trees.