YES, tyrants, you hate us, and fear while you hate The self-ruling, chain-breaking, throne-shaking State!

The night-birds dread morning,--your instinct is true,-- The day-star of Freedom brings midnight for you!

Why plead with the deaf for the cause of mankind?

The owl hoots at noon that the eagle is blind!

We ask not your reasons,--'t were wasting our time,-- Our life is a menace, our welfare a crime!

We have battles to fight, we have foes to subdue,-- Time waits not for us, and we wait not for you!

The mower mows on, though the adder may writhe And the copper-head coil round the blade of his scythe!

"No sides in this quarrel," your statesmen may urge, Of school-house and wages with slave-pen scourge!-- No sides in the quarrel! proclaim it as well To the angels that fight with the legions of h.e.l.l!

They kneel in G.o.d's temple, the North and the South, With blood on each weapon and prayers in each mouth.

Whose cry shall be answered? Ye Heavens, attend The lords of the lash as their voices ascend!

"O Lord, we are shaped in the image of Thee,-- Smite down the base millions that claim to be free, And lend thy strong arm to the soft-handed race Who eat not their bread in the sweat of their face!"

So pleads the proud planter. What echoes are these?

The bay of his bloodhound is borne on the breeze, And, lost in the shriek of his victim's despair, His voice dies unheard.--Hear the Puritan's prayer!

"O Lord, that didst smother mankind in thy flood, The sun is as sackcloth, the moon is as blood, The stars fall to earth as untimely are cast The figs from the fig-tree that shakes in the blast!

"All nations, all tribes in whose nostrils is breath Stand gazing at Sin as she travails with Death!

Lord, strangle the monster that struggles to birth, Or mock us no more with thy 'Kingdom on Earth!'

"If Ammon and Moab must reign in the land Thou gavest thine Israel, fresh from thy hand, Call Baal and Ashtaroth out of their graves To be the new G.o.ds for the empire of slaves!"

Whose G.o.d will ye serve, O ye rulers of men?

Will ye build you new shrines in the slave-breeder's den?

Or bow with the children of light, as they call On the Judge of the Earth and the Father of All?

Choose wisely, choose quickly, for time moves apace,-- Each day is an age in the life of our race!

Lord, lead them in love, ere they hasten in fear From the fast-rising flood that shall girdle the sphere!

F. W. C.

1864

FAST as the rolling seasons bring The hour of fate to those we love, Each pearl that leaves the broken string Is set in Friendship's crown above.

As narrower grows the earthly chain, The circle widens in the sky; These are our treasures that remain, But those are stars that beam on high.

We miss--oh, how we miss!--his face,-- With trembling accents speak his name.

Earth cannot fill his shadowed place From all her rolls of pride and fame; Our song has lost the silvery thread That carolled through his jocund lips; Our laugh is mute, our smile is fled, And all our sunshine in eclipse.

And what and whence the wondrous charm That kept his manhood boylike still,-- That life's hard censors could disarm And lead them captive at his will?

His heart was shaped of rosier clay,-- His veins were filled with ruddier fire,-- Time could not chill him, fortune sway, Nor toil with all its burdens tire.

His speech burst throbbing from its fount And set our colder thoughts aglow, As the hot leaping geysers mount And falling melt the Iceland snow.

Some word, perchance, we counted rash,-- Some phrase our calmness might disclaim, Yet 't was the sunset's lightning's flash, No angry bolt, but harmless flame.

Man judges all, G.o.d knoweth each; We read the rule, He sees the law; How oft his laughing children teach The truths his prophets never saw O friend, whose wisdom flowered in mirth, Our hearts are sad, our eyes are dim; He gave thy smiles to brighten earth,-- We trust thy joyous soul to Him!

Alas!--our weakness Heaven forgive!

We murmur, even while we trust, "How long earth's breathing burdens live, Whose hearts, before they die, are dust!"

But thou!--through grief's untimely tears We ask with half-reproachful sigh-- "Couldst thou not watch a few brief years Till Friendship faltered, 'Thou mayst die'?"

Who loved our boyish years so well?

Who knew so well their pleasant tales, And all those livelier freaks could tell Whose oft-told story never fails?

In vain we turn our aching eyes,-- In vain we stretch our eager hands,-- Cold in his wintry shroud he lies Beneath the dreary drifting sands!

Ah, speak not thus! _He_ lies not there!

We see him, hear him as of old!

He comes! He claims his wonted chair; His beaming face we still behold!

His voice rings clear in all our songs, And loud his mirthful accents rise; To us our brother's life belongs,-- Dear friends, a cla.s.smate never dies!

THE LAST CHARGE

1864

Now, men of the North! will you join in the strife For country, for freedom, for honor, for life?

The giant grows blind in his fury and spite,-- One blow on his forehead will settle the fight!

Flash full in his eyes the blue lightning of steel, And stun him with cannon-bolts, peal upon peal!

Mount, troopers, and follow your game to its lair, As the hound tracks the wolf and the beagle the hare!

Blow, trumpets, your summons, till sluggards awake!

Beat, drums, till the roofs of the faint-hearted shake!

Yet, yet, ere the signet is stamped on the scroll, Their names may be traced on the blood-sprinkled roll!

Trust not the false herald that painted your shield True honor to-day must be sought on the field!

Her scutcheon shows white with a blazon of red,-- The life-drops of crimson for liberty shed.

The hour is at hand, and the moment draws nigh; The dog-star of treason grows dim in the sky; Shine forth from the battle-cloud, light of the morn, Call back the bright hour when the Nation was born!

The rivers of peace through our valleys shall run, As the glaciers of tyranny melt in the sun; Smite, smite the proud parricide down from his throne,-- His sceptre once broken, the world is our own!