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| THE DARING 1 muse with retrospective eye, | |
| Throws back her glance, to that immortal day, | |
| When millions sworn to conquer or to die, | |
| Roused as a lion panting for the prey, | |
| And rushing headlong to the field of war, | 5 |
| Rode, vengeful rode, on slaughter’s gore-besprinkled car. | |
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| Why burnt thus fierce within the frenzied soul, | |
| Undying freedom’s life-enkindled flame? | |
| Who led the lightning? bade the thunder roll? | |
| What godlike power? what deathless son of fame, | 10 |
| Rent the dark veil of ancient days in twain, | |
| And gave to independence, liberty’s loosed rein? | |
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| Say, can’st thou count the sum of untold wrong, | |
| Which fired to rage this last discover’d world, | |
| To high wrought valor drove the impassion’d throng, | 15 |
| And the hot bolt of tricene vengeance hurl’d, | |
| At the proud puppets of a venal throne, | |
| Whom eastern lust of haughtiest rule had blush’d to own? | |
| |
| As well, might gaze intense on you gemm’d spheres, | |
| Bring to one point of view the stars of heaven;— | 20 |
| As soon, the dew drops, nature’s pearly tears, | |
| Or autumn’s leaves by rapid whirlwinds driven, | |
| Shall be wrote down on registers of time, | |
| As art numeric, number more than countless crime. | |
| |
| Heard ye that sigh? it is the sigh of law, | 25 |
| The grand palladium of terrestrial right; | |
| Lies crush’d by despotism’s Typhæan paw, | |
| And justice sinks to realms of brooding night: | |
| Juries are driven before the rising storm, | |
| And king-paid judges, judgment’s gold-ruled bench deform. | 30 |
| |
| Are there no Hampdens, Pyms who dare to rise | |
| No Marvels who abhor the Danaen shower? | |
| Yes! Roman patriots crowd these western skies, | |
| Nor heed the scorpion lash of Nimrod power: | |
| Temperate, yet firm, they poise the dubious scales— | 35 |
| But private vice, awhile, o’er public good prevails. | |
| |
| The mild petition, bold remonstrance fail; | |
| Infuriate demons, lust of power and gold, | |
| (Whose cheeks ne’er turn’d at human misery pale) | |
| The reins of government triumphant hold: | 40 |
| New deeds of wrong, and acts first penn’d in blood, | |
| Howl, as wild furies, o’er the Atlantic flood. | |
| |
| Spirit of Wolfe! and ghost of gallant Howe: | |
| Was it for this, Columbia’s yeomen bled, | |
| When ’mid the vale, or on the mountain’s brow, | 45 |
| Your arms to death, or crest-plumed victory led, | |
| A bold, intrepid, hardy, rustic train, | |
| Whose life, with elder Albion’s, dyed the reeking plain. | |
| |
| Lo, ’mid the bowers of sweet, domestic peace, | |
| Intrusive treads the son of hated war: | 50 |
| Whilst harpies sworn, a bleeding land to fleece, | |
| The merchant trap in iron nets of law: | |
| Trade dies away—and commerce quits the shore, | |
| Where right to hard earn’d property, is known no more. * * * * | |
| See, ravage mark a desolated coast.— | 55 |
| Old ocean groans beneath the sharks of power.— | |
| In panoply of steel, a Gorgon host, | |
| Snuff blood afar—and wait the opening hour, | |
| Which hurl’d on Lexington the volleyed storm, | |
| And onward pour’d, in vengeance, life-demanding form. | 60 |
| |
| Behold! that curling flame which mounts in air, | |
| ’T is Charlestown, rolling flagrant to the skies: | |
| How deep those groans of agony, despair! | |
| What piercing screams in wild discordance rise! | |
| These run, those fly, t’ avoid encircling fire, | 65 |
| Give one fond look at home, fall down, convulse, expire. * * * * | |
| Cry not the ghosts of gallant freemen slain, | |
| How long! how long! ere vengeance strikes the blow? | |
| The dust of Charlestown flitting o’er the plain, | |
| All eloquent, accuses loud the foe. | 70 |
| Heavens! shall their union’d voice a boon demand, | |
| And rouse not into agonies a madd’ning land? * * * * | |
| Black in the south, grim Afria’s soot-steep’d race, | |
| Lift at a master’s throat the sharp edged knife. | |
| Red in the north, the biped of the chase, | 75 |
| Quaffs from embowell’d captives streaming life; | |
| Whilst fierce Areskoui, frantic, fires his soul, | |
| And raging, stamps to atoms, mercy’s wine fill’d bowl. | |
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| All ages, sexes, ranks are doom’d the prey, | |
| Of loosen’d havock’s cannibalian hounds: | 80 |
| Cities and villas melt in flame away: | |
| And foul dishonor tramples virgin mounds: | |
| The son, the sire, the husband, wife are kill’d: | |
| And Abel’s righteous blood, by Cain’s rude hand, is spill’d. | |
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| Eternal Judge of everlasting right! | 85 |
| Shall thine own image bend beneath the stroke? | |
| Forbid it earth! forbid it worlds of light! | |
| Oh nerve the arm, as nature nerves the oak, | |
| Which, whilst the sounding axe repeats the blow, | |
| Acquires new strength, and scorns the idly threatening foe. | 90 |
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| ’T is done! the councils of the sky decree, | |
| That ancient compacts shall for ever cease: | |
| The trump of heaven, it hails Columbia, free: | |
| As enemies, in war; as friends, in peace, | |
| America, henceforth, Britannia eyes: | 95 |
| The last appeal is lodged; it thunders to the skies. | |
| |
| Strong, in reliance on the power divine, | |
| United Delegates impress the seal:— | |
| Heroes and statesmen, hail! Your names shall shine | |
| On glory’s page, when heaven, earth, ocean, feel, | 100 |
| Those chymic fires which purge the dross away, | |
| And leave creation’s gold impassive of decay. | |
| |
| Shall not the muse, record each patriot name, | |
| On the rich tablet of harmonic sound? | |
| Glows not the goddess of immortal fame, | 105 |
| To waft their praises, wide, the world around? | |
| Yes! poesy and fame enraptured join, | |
| Inspire the beating heart, and swell the emphatic line. | |
