IN a small chamber, friendless and unseen, | |
| Toiled oer his types one poor, unlearned young man; | |
| The place was dark, unfurnitured, and mean: | |
| Yet there the freedom of a race began. | |
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| Help came but slowly; surely no man yet | 5 |
| Put lever to the heavy world with less: | |
| What need of help? He knew how types were set, | |
| He had a dauntless spirit, and a press. | |
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| Such earnest natures are the fiery pith, | |
| The compact nucleus, round which systems grow: | 10 |
| Mass after mass becomes inspired therewith, | |
| And whirls impregnate with the central glow. | |
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| O Truth! O Freedom! how are ye still born | |
| In the rude stable, in the manger nursed! | |
| What humble hands unbar those gates of morn | 15 |
| Through which the splendors of the New Day burst! | |
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| What! shall one monk, scarce known beyond his cell, | |
| Front Romes far-reaching bolts, and scorn her frown? | |
| Brave Luther answered Yes; that thunders swell | |
| Rocked Europe, and discharmed the triple crown. | 20 |
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| Whatever can be known of earth we know, | |
| Sneered Europes wise men, in their snail-shells curled; | |
| No! said one man in Genoa, and that No | |
| Out of the dark created this New World. | |
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| Who is it will not dare himself to trust? | 25 |
| Who is it hath not strength to stand alone? | |
| Who is it thwarts and bilks the inward Must? | |
| He and his works, like sand, from earth are blown. | |
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| Men of a thousand shifts and wiles, look here! | |
| See one straightforward conscience put in pawn | 30 |
| To win a world; see the obedient sphere | |
| By braverys simple gravitation drawn! | |
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| Shall we not heed the lesson taught of old, | |
| And by the Presents lips repeated still, | |
| In our own single manhood to be bold, | 35 |
| Fortressed in conscience and impregnable will? | |
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| We stride the river daily at its spring, | |
| Nor, in our childish thoughtlessness, foresee | |
| What myriad vassal streams shall tribute bring. | |
| How like an equal it shall greet the sea. | 40 |
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| O small beginnings, ye are great and strong, | |
| Based on a faithful heart and weariless brain! | |
| Ye build the future fair, ye conquer wrong, | |
| Ye earn the crown, and wear it not in vain. | |
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