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CONCORD 
 
 POEM, 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE LYCEUM, 
 
 CONCORD, MASS , JANUARY 22, 1851, 
 
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 BOSTON: 
 TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS 
 
 MDCCCLI. 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1851, by 
 TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS, 
 In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 Thurston, Torry & Emerson, Printers. 
 
CONCORD. 
 
 Quoth that fair sister of the i Sacred Nine,' — 
 That indiscriminate and promiscuous Muse, — 
 
 Meek Polyhymnia, — humble, but divine — 
 The patroness of ' doggrel,' if you choose : 
 
 Q,uoth that fair maid, as idly in their bower 
 
 The Muses loitered for a rosy hour, — 
 
 C I would commend to your divine regard 
 
 A new pretender to the name of " Bard." ' 
 ' I prithee who,' — said gay Thalia — i tell, 
 
 And where on earth does this fresh wonder dwell ? ' 
 
 Then answered Poly, with a mantling blush, 
 
 1 His home — where Assabeth's sweet waters rush ; 
 
 Where crystal Walden fills its emerald cup ; 
 
 Where awful Nursneak lifts its dark brow up — 
 
 Sublime retreat of ruminating herds ; 
 
 Where Sleefy-Hollow listens to the birds — ' 
 
4 CONCORD. 
 
 — ■' Enough, enough, but what his thrilling name ? ' 
 
 Poor Poly answered not, but glowed with shame. 
 
 < Her blushes spare ! ' Thalia, laughing, cried, — 
 
 ' 'T is he I met by that fair river's side 
 
 In frightful travail with a monstrous rhyme — 
 
 'T was long ago — he must be past his prime, — 
 
 I bade Apollo pull his well-grown ear, 
 
 And for his wits felt many an anxious fear. 
 
 But read the couplets of thy moon-struck friend — 
 
 Proceed, dear Poly — Sisters all, attend ! ' 
 
 ' Time achieves wonders,' Poly faintly said, 
 
 And then began — superlatively red : — 
 
 c " Mendacious Rooster " ' — ' ah ! thy poet, then, 
 Sings of the wrongs of some confiding hen ! ' 
 1 Not so ! ' she bravely answered, — l of afire 
 That burned a Court-Honse in an ancient Shire, — 
 Whose noble walls became an ashy heap 
 While this young gentleman was fast asleep ! ' 
 1 Peace, peace,' cried she who tuneful Orpheus bore, — 
 ' You'll learn the theme before the song is o'er.' l 
 
 I. 
 Mendacious Rooster! crowing ere 'tis day ! 
 Making a jest of some wan taper's ray ! 
 
CONCORD. 
 
 Why this untimely and intrusive scream, — 
 Breaking the sweet illusions of my dream? 
 To-morrow's sun — and thou shalt rue this lie. 
 When my revolver makes thy feathers fly ! 
 
 Unworthy passion ! through my curtained panes 
 Came not the glare that roused those frantic strains ! 
 That those antipodal and restless eyes 
 Might well mistake for morning's crimson rise ! 
 
 Insensate sluggard ! True, the Shanghai blood 
 Coursed not those veins with its ennobling flood ; 
 Nor mid those russet feathers, sparse and rude, 
 Glanced the proud plumes of Poland's glossy brood ; 
 True his domain — that migratory hill 
 Whose path makes fertile every field we till ; — 
 But marked I not the frenzy of the note 
 That seemed to split his convoluted throat ? 
 — I slept, — but woke, a wide-spread grief to share, 
 And that disparaged fowl, of course, to spare. 
 
 I slept — but woke, to sleep no more 
 
 Beneath those Eagle wings — 
 Thine ancient Temple drooping o'er, 
 
 Justice ! thou king of kings ! 
 
CONCORD. 
 
 No more beneath thy lidless eye, 
 
 Brave bird, on that proud Dome 
 Poised, like a sentinel on high, 
 
 O'er these dear scenes — my Home ! 
 No more to greet that gray old tower, 
 
 Coeval with our Sires, — 
 Its antique grace, its silent power, — 
 
 The patriarch of the spires ! 
 
 Th' Incendiary's sacrifice, 
 
 His holocaust to Crime, — 
 It fell ! — so many a Hero dies — 
 
 In martyrdom sublime. 
 
 But lo ! where shot the central flame, 
 
 A shape from out the air, 
 Unfolding like a vision, came 
 
 And stood, majestic, there ! 
 Unscathed amid the fiery storm, 
 
 Not e'en its garments seared ! 
 J T was thine imperishable form, 
 
 To whom that Fane was reared ! 
 And until He, who wrought Heaven's wall, 
 
 Its azure arch shall rend, — 
 
CONCORD. 
 
 Justice ! although thy Temples fall, 
 Thy reign shall know no end ! 
 
 Incautious Muse! from thy presumptuous flight 
 In unfamiliar altitudes, alight, — 
 Nor trust too far thine artificial wings, 
 Lest solar heat deglutinate the things. 
 
 Who, inexpert, goes up in a balloon, 
 To ( terra firma"* can't return too soon : 
 Better — than risk the chances of a fall, — 
 Or what were worse — than not come down at all, 
 Take to a parachute, — nay, wanting that, 
 An old umbrella or a broad-brimmed hat, 
 {Howler abruptly his ascension ends,) 
 Nor further trifle with his nervous friends. 
 
 I take the hint, and recognize its force, — 
 My Pegasus ! check thine ambitious course ! 
 With less of hazard we, perhaps, may climb 
 
 The elevations, here and there, that spring 
 Out of the rolling prairie of rhyme, — 
 
 Demanding neither strength nor sweep of wing. 
 
 It was a gloomy hour — when morning came 
 To view the havoc of that midnight flame : 
 
O CONCORD. 
 
 The Shire dismembered, Law unshrined, — the spell 
 
 Of stupefaction on men's senses fell : 
 
 — Must mantled Justice to an inn repair. 
 
 And risk her dignity and ermine there ? 
 
 Must Eloquence — i impetuous fire ' and all — 
 
 Blaze from the forum of a dancing-hall ? 
 
 • That hapless Sheriff — what shall now console ? 
 
 Gone is his flaming sword, his painted pole ! 
 
 (Who makes the base suggestion that he take, 
 
 For staff, the handle of a toothless rake ? 
 
 And borrow the unconsecrated blade 
 
 With which some yeoman rages on parade ?) 
 
 Of boys the idol, dread of knaves no more, 
 
 How shall he tread the solemn Judge before, 
 
 And point, along the unaccustomed street, 
 
 The devious way to his abstracted feet ? 2 
 
 That wretched Clerk — ne'er rolled a denser fog 
 From Groton's hills or over Lechmere's bog, 
 Than now confused the red-hot, reeling brain 
 Of the chief scribe, and all his scrivener train ; 
 And while distracted barristers implore 
 The fate of ' papers ' they shall see no more, — 
 Shades of fierce suits, and pugilistic pleas — 
 Beyond his art to banish or appease — 
 
CONCORD. y 
 
 In spectral i files ' before his vision rise. 
 And glare upon him with their tapeless eyes ! 
 
 Anon, to view the desolation, come 
 The Shire's Triumvirs — dignified and dumb ! 
 As o'er the scene they ominously threw 
 Their frigid glances, things indeed looked < blue ' ! 
 Thy maidens, Concord, warbled i Auld Lang Syne,' 
 Our hearts responding to each heavy line ; 
 But soon they bravely struck l Begone Dull Care ' — 
 The irksome Fiend retreating, hair by hair. 
 
 For Grief is not an ever-pressing load 
 That we must bear along Life's weary road, — 
 A dear companion, rather, — grave, but sweet, — 
 Who sings old strains to charm and buoy our feet, — 
 Recalls the smile — in living eyes so cold ; 
 The cheering word — that breathing lips withhold. 
 And Triumph, often, with its flashing wings, 
 From out Hope's ashes, like a Phoenix, springs ! 
 
 In vain did Justice call them to restore 
 Her shrine to its familiar seat once more : — 
 ' Economy forbids ! ' the Triad said, — 
 ' The " rates" are high! — remove u the Terms.' 1 
 instead ! J 
 
10 CONCORD. 
 
 Then greedy City and aspiring Town 
 
 Hailed, with insane delight, the base decree, — 
 
 While Concord, trusting in her old renown, 
 Calmly responded — i Gentlemen ! we'll see ! ' 
 
 Whether it was Economy or Spite — 
 Pause not, dear Muse, to question, — speed thy flight ; 
 Nor, o'er the issue of that dread appeal 
 To those who ruled the State, exultant, wheel ; — 
 From hammers of laborious builders ring 
 Strains more triumphant than the lyre can sing ! 
 From yon new-risen Tovjer a paean flows — 
 Shall vibrate long to haunt our routed foes ! 
 
 We bid it welcome to that hallowed spot, — 
 But ah ! that ancient temple not forgot ; 
 Nay — as we fondly greet it — by its side 
 
 Rises a vision that distracts our view ! 
 So Islam's Prophet loved his youthful bride, 
 
 Though still to old Kadijah's memory true. 
 
 I would not cavil at the builder's plan, 
 Nor pain a worthy, well-intentioned man 
 
CONCORD. 
 
 U 
 
 Who seeks to fill the void that vanished fane 
 
 Has left within our hearts and on our plain ; 
 
 But yet, methinks, the Emblem somewhat fails — 
 
 Appointed from its pinnacle to gleam, — 
 The nice adjustment of those balanced scales, — 
 
 The equipoise of their unflinching beam ! 
 As if the hand that held them never shook 
 At piteous moan, or Love's beseeching look, — 
 Nor weighed the eager want, the desperate woe, 
 That compassed Guilt and urged the fatal blow, — 
 1 Threw nothing in ' — like that hard grocer there — 
 So far from liberal, — though precisely fair ; — 
 As if from Mercy, Justice walked apart, 
 Nor felt her whispers in her bloodless heart — 
 Whose voice, alone, can cheer the awful path 
 She oft must tread in melancholy wrath ! 
 
 The boys would choose that ambidextrous knight — 
 Upon ambitious barns one sometimes sees, 
 
 And whose twin sabres, cutting left and right, 
 Obey the impulse of each passing breeze, — 
 
 Cleaving the air in indiscriminate rage, — 
 
 But such the choice of youth's unreasoning age. 
 
12 CONCORD. 
 
 Thy gossamer-suspended blade would please 
 The ultra virtuous ; O Damocles ! 
 And they, perchance, might be the first to feel 
 How keen and merciless that fang of steel ! 
 
 I hear the Transcendentalist exclaim. 
 
 1 Oh ! let it with a golden ball be crowned! 
 Better than " trivial " scales, or sword of flame, — 
 
 For is not perfect Justice " orbed " and round? 
 
 Were the fond privilege mine, I freely own 
 I would recall the Eagle to his throne, — 
 Careless of the proprieties of Art, 
 Consulting but the promptings of my heart ! 
 (Indignant Jotham having vanished hence — 
 Of old who ' cursed ' it — shocked at the expense 
 Just thirty dollars ! or — excuse the pan — 
 Three golden eagles for a wooden one.) 
 
 Giants have fallen by a small man's sling. 
 Consoling thought ! Inspire me now to sing ! 
 
 Mother of Letters ! I may not presume 
 
 To point my shafts at thy resplendent name, — 
 
 Although, where those gigantic chimneys loom, 
 My indignation has a valid claim. 
 
CONCORD. 13 
 
 To Concord's peaceful shades thy scholars fled — 
 Of old. when startled by the din of arms ; 3 
 
 And hither, yet, thine untamed boys are led, 
 
 To ' sow their wild-oats ' mid our ' mistic ' charms. 
 
 But thou hast made us fair and full return — 
 
 In those whom, stamped by thine approving hand, 
 
 We yet lament o'er many a moistened urn, 
 Or proudly claim as Beacons in the Land ! 
 
 Yes, 'neath the shadow of thine honored wings, 
 (With help of mud,) let Lechmere pass from view. 
 
 That to thy shining garments foully clings, 
 To taint thine atmosphere and stain its hue. 
 
 To where no cherished memories interpose 
 To turn thy points, Vengeance ! direct thy blows ! 
 
 There is an evanescent kind of cloth, 
 Made from a sort of vegetable froth, — 
 In ghastly currents, from unwholesome mills, 
 It gushes like the torrents from the hills, — 
 O'er this fair land in frightful volume cast — 
 Threatening to be its winding-sheet at last ! 
 
14 
 
 CONCORD. 
 
 Far in the North a noisy City stands, 
 Grasping New Hampshire's chill and granite hands — 
 Across a wave, once bounding, blue and free, 
 But now, polluted, creeping to the sea — 
 Its spirit broken on a hundred wheels. 
 The slave of splindles and the sport of reels ! 
 So from the scourge — abasement now complete — 
 The abject bondman drags his sullen feet ! 
 
 Upon its banks, behold ! in rigid rows, 
 Those demon mills that vanquished stream inclose ! 
 Imperial Merrimack ! and not alone 
 O'er thy proud neck the servile chain is thrown. — 
 Our meek-eyed, modest river, too, must wear 
 That galling curb, thy degradation share, — 
 The grave Musketaquid ! — through meadows green 
 Winding, with noiseless step and glance serene, 
 To lay her bosom on thine ampler breast, 
 And meet the sea in thine embraces pressed, — 
 Unconscious of the struggle that awaits 
 Her gentle spirit at those awful 'gates! ' 
 
 Look to it, Stranger, have thy wits at hand, 
 If thou, perchance, within those Mills wouldst stand. 
 
CONCORD. 15 
 
 Keep cool, I pray thee, choose thy steps with care, 
 And guard thy lungs against the fibrous air. 
 The tales they'll tell thee, all those glancing eyes, 
 Shall make it seem, perhaps, like Paradise ; 
 But ere thy faith thou yieldest to the spell 
 Of cotton — pause awhile, and ponder well ! 
 A conscience may be made of meaner stuff 
 Even than that — but that is mean enough. 
 
 I'm not the foe of cotton ; — no, it holds 
 My warmest friends in its enticing folds : 
 But let its true position stand confessed — 
 A Monarch rag, — but still a rag at best. 
 I spare the taunt (let not my lyre be 'rude,') 
 Of its relationship to servitude ; 
 Nor would I, hastily, the substance tax 
 With an inferiority to flax ; 
 On cordial, nay, familiar terms I meet 
 The manufactured product — as a sheet ; 
 It may be, slily, worn — a little small — 
 With some precautions, obvious to all ; 
 But I would never flaunt it in the street, 
 Nor o'er its sallow folds the banquet greet, 
 Nor in my pocket give it honored place, — 
 I shudder at its contact with my face ! 
 
16 CONCORD. 
 
 Are there not those — City of Spindles, say, — 
 Would make the Land subservient to its sway ? 
 From its proud turrets Freedom's ensign tear, 
 And hang a piece of Lowell sheeting there, — 
 And bid the heroes of the starry flag 
 Go forth to conflict 'neath the pallid rag ? 
 Ay, of its heart despoil the manly breast, 
 And compensate it with a padded vest ? 
 
 The minstrel, haply, of that City sings 
 With too much indignation for his strings ; 
 But O the Nation's perils, Concord's wrongs 
 Rush o'er his soul in multifarious throngs ! 
 Her \ virtuous' population fills our jail ! 
 
 Her dams defile our once luxuriant meads, 
 And bid our streamlet stagnate in the vale ! 
 
 On our betrayed, abducted shad she feeds ! 
 Nor does the guilty banquet wake a sigh, 
 That eels and suckers form our only fry ! 4 
 
 Think of the Yankee girls the place < consumes,' 
 And all the misery, consequent, that dooms 
 That wan, though youthful housewife ! — once the hue 
 Of rosy ease that troubled visage knew, — 
 Now she must drudge, or with desponding heart, 
 
CONCORD. 17 
 
 Commit her household to Milesian art ; 
 
 Her kitchen rings with brogue, and vain her shriek 
 
 For native 'help ' — at any price per week ! 
 
 While reckless spiders bandy round the rooms 
 
 Contemptuous jests at the inactive brooms ; — 
 
 And from her mansion seems forever fled 
 
 The fragrance cleanliness was wont to shed. 
 
 Ere Arkwright ceased to shave, — or Whitney's gin 
 
 Inebriated planters, — high and low — 
 Matrons and maidens — used at home to spin 
 
 By antiquated processes and slow. 
 The stoutest fabric wrought at Lowell take, 
 And then some ' homespun ' of aunt Betsey's make, — 
 (It yet survives — an heirloom to her race, — 
 
 Come, staunch old < Linsey-woolsey,' to thy feet ! 
 
 Break through the cobwebs of thy lone retreat ! 
 
 Be not ashamed to show thine honest face.) 
 
 Expose, upon some bleak, unsheltered plain 
 
 A vigorous post, and thereto nail the twain : 
 
 Now set in motion a September gale, 
 
 And see which first turns traitor to the nail. 
 
 Lo ! while its rival seeks a milder air, 
 
 The ' homespun ' hangs — a flag of victory there ! 
 2 
 
18 CONCORD 
 
 Or, if you 've wealth — a fairer test to try — 
 A garb of each — coeval garments — buy ; 
 Wear them alternately, and day by day 
 Mark their respective symptoms of decay, — 
 Yet in its prime, the ' homespun' shall attend 
 The early funeral of its flimsy friend ! 
 
 Were Freedom's battle to be fought again, 
 Say, would her ranks not show some flimsy men, — 
 The bone and sinew of her earlier day — 
 If not its spirit — almost passed away ? 
 By easy logic may we trace to thee 
 And thine, O Lowell ! this degeneracy. 
 
 Where are the youths the untitled field deplores ? 
 Jumping o'er counters in delirious scores, — 
 Their mimic burdens overtasking arms 
 That should have toughened on paternal farms ! 
 
 And now Reformers come, and roar and pant, — 
 A necessary consequence, I grant, — 
 But then the undegenerate, too, the hale 
 Before their rude artillery must quail, 
 From each < fond weakness ' (hardly that) must 
 
 break — 
 Reforming as l for the example's sake ' ! 
 
CONCORD. 19 
 
 Perchance, O stern, uncompromising man 
 And advocate of the l teetotal plan/ — 
 Did hands as vigorous fill the cup to-day, 
 And heads as strong carry the draught away, 
 As when our Sires, around the festive board, 
 The steaming punch, and flip all foaming, poured, — 
 E'en thou might'st have it in thy heart to spare 
 One ancient Bowl — that stood in honor there. 
 Yes, as before the thronged, eventful gate 
 
 Of each recurring and too transient year 
 Time draws his coursers up, to chat with Fate — 
 
 To ask — has that friend gone, — is this still here? 
 Might'st yield to us, at least, that One Bowl More — 5 
 
 So full of memories of our journey past, — 
 Of hope for that we ? re yet to hurry o'er, — 
 
 So full of Moral — it may be our last ! 
 
 But I submit, — and yet, my zealous friend, 
 A patient ear to one petition lend, — 
 It may be out of place, nay, very wrong, 
 Still it will serve to — lengthen out the song. 
 The bottle wrest from Labor's sturdy gripe, 
 
 Dash down the cup of Revelry, — but ah ! 
 Leave to the rustic his seductive pipe, 
 
20 CONCORD. 
 
 And to the dreamer his divine cigar, — 
 The one, of old Simplicity the type, — 
 
 The other, Fancy's cloud-encompassed star ! 
 I crave no mercy for the wretch who sticks 
 Into his face < long nine ' or l shorter six,' 
 And in the street assaults each shrinking sense, — 
 No, down with him — he smokes at our expense ; 
 But those who puff — an unobtrusive race — 
 In chimney corners, never in your face, — 
 And those who only privately perfume 
 Their hovering fancies in their favorite room, — 
 In thy reforming wrath, pass by, I pray, 
 Nor rouse again their bard's defiant lay ; — 
 They have their lays — my listeners may have met 
 This specimen in their deceased < Gazette.' 6 
 
 Revile, revile, I tell you still 
 
 I'll whirl the smoke afar — 
 Ethereal exhalation from 
 
 My exquisite cigar ! 
 Impalpable as fairy's tress, 
 
 Fleeting as morning spray, 
 Grateful as incense, — see it glide, 
 
 In sinuous grace, away! 
 
CONCORD. 21 
 
 Anacreon had the sparkling cup, 
 
 The merry song, — but ah ! 
 The gay, old reveller had not 
 
 The exquisite cigar ! 
 And Bacchus quaffed the rosy wine, 
 
 And nectar too — the sinner — 
 But never knew the luxury 
 
 Of smoking after dinner ! 
 
 The grape may blush at Gallia's feet, 
 
 The palm o'er India wave, — 
 Tobacco scents my native land, — 
 
 O plant it on my grave ! 
 Revile, revile, I tell you still 
 
 I'll whirl the smoke afar, 
 And give my fancy to its wings, — 
 
 My exquisite cigar. 
 
 Revolving City ! yet a parting word, 
 And be its admonition kindly heard. 
 To spindles stick, but pretermit the Law, — 
 And peace shall smile where frowns this lyric war. 
 To Cotton cling, but covet not ' the Terms,' — 
 And this old Town her champion's truce confirms. 
 
22 
 
 CONCORD. 
 
 And Groton too, — oblivious of old scores, 
 Chalked, years ago, on long since mouldered doors, 
 When Concord rushed — through winter's drifted 
 
 snows — 
 
 A stout ally against her painted foes, — 
 The war-whoop's wild falsettos piercing night, 
 And smoking towns obscuring morning's light, — 
 As from Mount Hope to blue Wachusett's base 
 Raged the last battle of red Philip's race, — 
 Who counted Groton, even, worthy game 
 For the avenging tomahawk and flame : 
 When fell a baldness on her sons of toil, 
 Beyond Macassar's art, or Rowland's oil, — 
 And favored he, who, at morn's welcome glare 
 Awoke to comb his customary hair, — 
 (Indeed, when ruin on the trader fell 
 Who had large quantities of combs to sell;) 7 
 E'en Groton too, as sank that hallowed pile, 
 Could not suppress an unbecoming smile ! 
 
 Ambition stirred her heart, and splendid gleams 
 Of future greatness flashed across her dreams ! • 
 Visions of wealth transported her as well, — 
 Those long-neglected, desperate ' lots'* would sell ! 
 
CONCORD. 23 
 
 Voracious juries thin her fattened herds ! 
 
 Judicial epicures exalt her curds ! 
 
 New prospects shine on her unusual beans, 
 
 Surplus chenangoes and prolific greens ! 
 
 Elated at the thought, with bloodshot eyes. 
 
 She loudly clamors for the glittering prize ; — 
 
 What though she be upon the Shire's frontier, 
 
 Is not the ' rush ' of population here — 
 
 To this acknowledged Briareus of the State, — 
 
 And is she not as ' virtuous ' as great ? 
 
 Let Justice to her blissful hills repair — 
 
 'T will catch fresh vigor from their nervous air ! 
 
 Let Jurisprudence snuff her balmy breeze — 
 
 Its scrubs of laws shall grow to giant trees ! 
 
 The Bench get honest ! — possibly the Bar, 
 
 In moral valuation, rise to l par ' ! 
 
 In this great centre of diverging rails 
 
 Poise, then, the eagle, or suspend the scales ! 
 
 It will accommodate — some paper-makers, 
 
 And be a great convenience to — the Shakers ! 
 
 Conceited Groton ! Towns, as well as men, 
 Become inflated, but collapse again ! 
 
24 
 
 CONCORD. 
 
 How many a dwarf, who stands but three feet four. 
 Hugs the delusion that he measures more, 
 And wildly struts, adds leather to his heels, 
 Increases, by a third, his daily meals, — 
 But all in vain — for him { the die is cast ' — 
 Insatiate Barnum 'shows him up,' at last ! 
 
 Nay, Groton ! it were sacrilege to raise 
 A Court-House on a soil so dear to Shays, — 
 Where his rebellious memory long did bloom, 
 And Shattuck's ashes claim the proudest tomb ! 8 
 
 II. 
 
 To earlier days, of heroes and romance, 
 Turn, if we can, a more becoming glance. 
 How feuded it with thee, good, old Concord, then? 
 How stood thy sons among those giant men ? 
 What know thy hills and plains, thy waters fair, 
 Of awful battles, or of legends rare ? 
 Have hostile columns trampled 'neath their feet 
 The humble sands of this familiar street ! 
 
CONCORD. 25 
 
 Have yon fair heights smoked with more dreadful fray 
 Than of the sham-fight on some muster-day ? 
 
 From where it burst, by Yorktown's side, a flood, 
 Trace to its source that lavish tide of blood 
 That marked the long and obstinate retreat 
 Of Britain's wounded, but tenacious feet, — 
 When, with indignant hands, our martial Sires 
 Had torn the l red-cross ' from its glittering spires, 
 And launched those folds upon the eager air, 
 That now t the stars and stripes of glory ' wear. 
 
 Yv^here yon slight shaft o'erlooks the slender stream, 
 
 Its fountain gushed, in April's melting beam ! 
 
 Upon the sod he pressed in haughty scorn 
 
 The hireling weltered — and that tide was born ! 
 
 And stranger hands scooped in the tainted ground 
 
 Room for his dust, and reared the lowly mound. 
 
 Perchance, a wandering sigh, from o'er the wave, 
 Sought — but it sought in vain — that nameless grave ! 
 
 Not such your portion, O ye Martyrs twin, 
 A hasty turf and tearless rites to win — 
 Davis and Hosmer! — unto you Death came 
 A radiant angel, hand in hand with Fame ! 
 
26 CONCORD. 
 
 You, for the countiy who had borne you, fell, 
 And on her bosom — O you loved her tcell, — 
 And in your crimson glory, side by side, 
 Inhaling Freedom's ether, painless, died! 
 
 - Say, what enchantment smote that flying foe ? 
 What magic brought those fearless banners low ? 
 What clothed that handful with a legion's power ? 
 What inspiration ruled the wondrous hour ? 
 Tell me, what moved the Persian hosts to flee, 
 And made a Victory of Thermopylae ? 
 
 Hark ! 'mid the battle's smoky breath — 
 That war-cry — l Liberty or Death ! ' 
 Human, instinctive, righteous cry ! 
 
 Hear it, great Heaven ! responsive, hear ! 
 He testifies his faith on high 
 
 Who vindicates his birthright here ; 
 A heritage he may not yield 
 
 To any tyrant but the Grave, 
 For only 'neath that mighty shield 
 Can he exalt what Nature gave ! 
 
 Yes, thou, whose blood and name I proudly boast, 
 Who, in the face of England's angry host — 
 
CONCORD. 27 
 
 Thine untaught sword thrilling thine aged hand — 
 
 So calmly marshalled that momentous band, — 
 
 The principle of freedom in thy breast 
 
 As yet a germ — throbbing, but unexpressed, — 
 
 Though in that hour, instinctively, it wrought 
 
 The glorious purpose of the full-grown thought, — 
 
 When from thy firm, grave lip the mandate fell — 
 
 c March ! ' it redeemed a Nation like a spell ! 
 
 And when from thine, grim Buttrick ! dauntless man ! 
 
 Who like a lion led the fearless van, 
 
 That all-irrevocable order sprung — 
 
 1 For God's sake fire! ' world-wide its echoes rung ! 
 
 An earthquake shook St. George's princely towers, 
 
 While from her nest, the Eagle swept to ours ! 
 
 Recall the time, when, on a pathless sea — 
 Their only strength — the spirit to be free — 
 The Pilgrim Exiles saw their tattered sail 
 Fling its last shred upon the maddened gale ! 
 Who bade them 'welcome,' as in tears they spread 
 Upon these frozen shores their icy bed ? 
 Who gave them boundless realms, a mountain-seat ? 
 Who laid Dominion at their weary feet ? 
 The Indian ! Not the < ruthless savage ' then — 
 To that transformed by you, O Christian men ! 
 
28 CONCORD. 
 
 Here is a blot upon our Country's page — 
 Shall live and glare from age to endless age ! 
 A tale of dark ingratitude and wrong — 
 Shall swell the sinews of indignant song! 
 
 Fiercely he strove, in vain as fiercely died, 
 For rights the stranger's creed and laws denied — 
 His own ' Great Spirit,' and his foe's heart's-blood 
 His Freedom, Country, — his before the flood ! 
 In tears and gore he fled from hill to hill, 
 Extermination rolled behind him still ! 
 
 That bleeding Race ! its haggard Spectre long 
 Shall roam this land, retrace each scene of wrong : 
 The ancient trails, by age and art concealed, 
 To its unearthly steps stand all revealed ! 
 It rises mid the city's crowded piles ; 
 It rises where the verdant landscape smiles ; 
 Upon the mountains do its moanings break ; 
 It flits at midnight o'er the misty lake ; 
 Its phantom hosts on fields of upper air 
 Seem marshalling, to meet the Pale-face there ! 
 Thank God ! it haunts not this small span of sky, 
 Nor hither comes its weird reproachful cry. 
 
CONCORD. 29 
 
 The lands we till — from that wan spirit free — 
 Were purchased — ' at a bargain,' it may be ; 
 A few more jack-knives might, perhaps, have made 
 A hair less c sharp ' our worthy Fathers' trade ; 
 A few more blankets might have proved their hearts 
 Warmer by some degrees — the casuist starts 
 These 'points of conscience' — I the question spurn — 
 The kindliest bosom exile shall make stern, — 
 And nights of danger, days of want and gloom 
 Brush from the sensibilities the bloom. 
 
 And in that earnest age — 't is to be said — 
 Jack-knives were jack-knives — innocent of lead ; 
 Our Fathers' swords were made for use — as well 
 Their meaner cutlery — and not ' to sell : ' 
 Nor was the world — of shams and science full, — 
 Cotton had not corrupted honest wool ! 
 Nor statutes been enacted to repeal 
 The unsophisticated spinning-wheel ! 
 Nor Competition had its baneful birth, — 
 The Yankee Pedlar had not bloomed on earth ! 
 
 The i Title ' — free from guilt or fraud — I claim , 
 Speak, History ! ay, speak, expressive Name ! 
 
30 CONCORD. 
 
 Speak, Wibbacowett and Natanquatick ! 
 
 And thou Squaw-Sachem — redder than a brick ! 
 
 Speak, if your shades have not these scenes forsaken, 
 
 Confirm the story told by Jehojaken — 
 
 Of that fair compact, which, in clouds of smoke, 
 
 Was signed and sealed beneath i old Jethro's oak ! ' 9 
 
 Have I — who dared to claim a few, before — 
 A friend remaining, now my song is o'er, — 
 I yet would breathe, in such indulgent ear, 
 
 One prayer for thee, O venerable Town ! 
 May they, who have their humble altars here, 
 
 Guard and perpetuate thine Old Renown ! 
 And though they sprinkle thee with pearls and gold, — 
 
 Crowning thine age — so comely and serene, — 
 Oh, let them to thy < Past ' with fervor hold, 
 
 And keep thine earlier laurels fresh and green ! 
 
NOTES. 
 
 Note 1. Pa&e 4. 
 
 The author of the foregoing Poem is at liberty to say that a suffi- 
 ciently general desire for its publication has been expressed by 
 those present at its delivery, to shield him from the charge of 
 presumption in presenting it in this form. 
 
 Its subjects being quite local, a brief explanation may be neces- 
 sary to render it intelligible, should it chance to stray beyond the 
 limits of the village for whose amusement, exclusively, it was 
 originally designed. 
 
 The Court- House in Concord, in the Shire of Middlesex, was 
 burned by incendiaries on the night of June, 1849, and during the 
 progress of a Term. The emblem upon its spire (which was the 
 oldest in Town) was an Eagle. 
 
 The County Commissioners declined to rebuild, at the time, upon 
 the ground, among others, that the County having recently incur- 
 red a considerable debt for the construction of Court-Houses at 
 Lowell and at Lechmere's Point in Cambridge, it was probable 
 that the Legislature would deem it advisable, at their next ses- 
 sion, to remove the Terms, required by law to be held in Con- 
 cord, to those less combustible localities. A strong effort was 
 accordingly made by the Cities referred to, aided by Towns in 
 their respective vicinities, to bring about such a result. The 
 friends of Groton also advocated the expediency of erecting a 
 Court-House in that Town, upon the ground of its remarkably 
 central position, — a ground that certain l fixed ' geographical facts 
 rendered rather untenable. These schemes were unsuccessful, 
 and at the time the Poem was delivered, a new Court-House, on 
 the site of the old one, was nearly completed. It is understood 
 that it is to bear as an Emblem a figure of Justice with her 
 scales. 
 
32 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Note 2. Page 8. 
 It was formerly, and probably still is the custom in the Country 
 Counties for the Sheriff, bearing the insignia of his office, to 
 escort the Judge from his lodgings to the Court-room. 
 
 Note 3. Page 13. 
 The College was removed to Concord for a time, during the 
 Revolution. 
 
 Note 4. Page 16. 
 Before the dams at Billerica and Lowell were built, the Muske- 
 taquid was famous for its Shad. But in consequence of these 
 obstructions, their visits to this stream have long since ceased. 
 
 Note 5. Page 19. 
 This Bowl bearing the words < One Bowl more,' used to grace 
 the annual festivals of a former generation. 
 
 Note .6. Page 20. 
 The Song here introduced was printed in the l Yeoman's 
 Gazette' a number of years since. The author has also taken the 
 liberty of plagiarizing from himself a few other scattered lines in 
 the course of the Poem. 
 
 Note 7. Page 22. 
 Groton often received assistance from ' Concord men ' in her 
 enterprises against the Indians, and was burned during King 
 Philip's War. 
 
 Note 8. Page 24. 
 Capt. Shattuck came from Groton, in Shay's Rebellion, with 
 several hundred men, and prevented the holding of the Court in 
 Concord. He was subsequent! condemned for treason, but was 
 afterwards pardoned, and lived many years in Groton, where he 
 exercised great influence. 
 
 Note 9. Page 30. 
 See History of Concord. 
 
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