457.9
 
 
 V 
 
 Si- 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THOMAS BOUNDY.
 
 IBERTY'S MARTYR 
 
 A POEM 
 In Eight Cantos, 
 
 BY 
 THOMAS BOUNDY. 
 
 HUustratefc, 
 
 : Tis to the man and the man's honest worth 
 
 The nation's loyalty in tears npsprings. 
 Through him the soil of labor shines henceforth 
 
 High o'er the silken broideries of kings. 
 Horn of the people, well he knew to grasp 
 
 The wants and wishes of the weak and small; 
 Therefore we hold him with no shadowy clasp; 
 
 Therefore his name is household to us all. 
 
 Alice Gary. 
 
 jfiret E&ttkm. 
 
 JEKMYN, PA. 
 
 THE PRESS PRINTING OFFICE. 
 
 1897.
 
 COPYRIGHT 1897 
 
 BY 
 
 THOMAS BOUNDY.
 
 Synopsis. 
 
 Canto i. A slave auction in New Orleans. 
 One of the slaves sees in a vision Justice with her 
 flashing sword, the future president and Komi- 
 men's friend, as well as the principal event-iof the 
 war. Her vision rudely ended, she hears that 
 memorable utterance, "If ever 1 get a chance to 
 hit that thing I'll hit it hard." She turns and 
 recognizes the speaker as the central f^uie cf 
 her vision, Abraham Lincoln. 
 
 Canto 2. The events immediately preceding 
 and surrounding Lincoln's inauguration. The 
 substance of his inaugural address. 
 
 Canto 3. The task the new president unc'e;- 
 took. The storming of Fort Sumter. 
 
 Canto 4. The battle of Bull Run. "Stone- 
 wall" Jackson's bravery and how it turned the 
 tide of battle. Lincoln's calmness and ccol judg- 
 ment under disaster. 
 
 75942O
 
 Canto 5. A description of the engagement 
 between the Merrimac and Monitor. The joy 
 that resulted from the latter's victory. 
 
 Canto 0. The bondmen s wail, "How long. 
 () Lord! how long?" The hour of crisis and the 
 act of emancipation. How the slaves received 
 the news and subsequently their freedom. 
 
 Canto 7. -Complaints of slowness in the pro- 
 secution of the war. The joint action of Grant 
 aml''S'herman. The end of the war. President 
 Lincoln's enthusiastic reception in Richmond by 
 the liberated slaves. 
 
 . : 
 
 , Canto S. Anothqr vision of Justice. Her 
 sword still Hashing. Intercession of the heavenly 
 hosts. The final blow .Lincoln's death and how 
 the nation received it. Justice sheathes her 
 sword.
 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 
 
 From a photograph owneil l>y Mr. Xo;ih Brooks an.-l ivpr.xluced haiv ly his i*r.nission.
 
 *[ LIBERTY'S 
 
 MARTYR 
 
 Canto the First. 
 
 Hbrabam Xincoln at a Slave auction. 
 
 WAS in a city 'neath a southern sky, 
 Where Mississippi rolls in grandeur by; 
 Gxfi A city fanned by breezes from the sea, 
 Where graceful naiads may have wandered free; 
 To which Narcissus might with eager stride 
 Have sped to stand its glassy pools beside 
 Observant not that all around was fair 
 As his resplendent form reflected there 
 And lay his form ethereal down to rest, 
 To pine and die on nature's healthful breast;
 
 JO LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 A city which the fair Euphrosyne, 
 The gods of beauty and of harmony, 
 Might have selected for their festive hall, 
 But for the blight that held a race in thrall. 
 
 An open mart, a miscellaneous crowd, 
 An auctioneer whose voice was harsh and loud; 
 His wares were human bodies, and the first 
 A splendid sample of the race accursed. 
 He stepped upon a block and faced the throng, 
 A man of muscle, massive, lithe and strong; 
 No common frame was his, those limbs of oak 
 Could slay a common mortal at a stroke. 
 And yet he meekly stood and heard his price 
 Leap from small sums to thousands in a trice. 
 The hammer fell; and thus for sordid gold 
 A man unto his fellow man was sold. 
 
 He stepped aside, a youngster took his place 
 The strong man's son a boy with chubby face 
 And laughing eyes. But see! a tearful cloud 
 Dimmed them the moment that he faced the crowd; 
 Confused, he gazed, then sought his mother's face,
 
 CANTO THE FIRST. \\ 
 
 And the next moment rushed to her embrace. 
 O, cruel laugh! O, worse than cruel heart! 
 Their ruthless owner tore the twain apart. 
 He never dreamed that e'en a seraph might 
 Have gazed with rapture on that lovely sight; 
 He wanted dollars, and for dollars then 
 He placed the youngster on the block again, 
 And sold him, too, that child of tender years, 
 A quivering little mass of sobs and tears. 
 
 Next came the mother. How her bosom 
 
 heaved! 
 
 Of husband now and baby, too, bereaved, 
 She stood a victim of the nation's sin; 
 Her wandering sense heard not the buyers' din; 
 Her one request, enforced with suppliant tone 
 And streaming tears, moved not their hearts of 
 
 stone. 
 
 Yet all she asked was but the paltry joy 
 To serve the planter who had bought her boy. 
 Again the hammer fell; she raised her eyes, 
 Glanced at her buyer, then upward to the skies
 
 12 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 She sent a mute appeal. An angel there 
 Marked well the fervor of that silent prayer, 
 And poured into her soul a flood of light 
 And then unfolded to her inward sight- 
 Stern Justice, standing with uplifted hand 
 And flashing sword, about to smite the land. 
 She saw a man men named The Bondmen's Friend 
 Around him gather armies without end; 
 She saw war's fearful chances bravely faced; 
 Homes, towns and cities wickedly laid waste; 
 Gaunt famine reigning, while on every plain 
 A hundred thousand gallant men lay slain. 
 At last she saw the dreadful havoc cease; 
 She heard the proclamation of a peace; 
 She heard the land rejoice from sea to sea, 
 And then she knew the slave was free was free! 
 
 A shock aroused her; 'twas a cruel hand 
 That rudely pulled her from the salesman's stand; 
 But as her buyer pushed her through the crowd 
 She heard a voice 'twas only half aloud, 
 Though fraught with pathos, anger ill concealed, 
 "My God! if ever in a future field
 
 Dratrn by R. H. Martin. 
 
 A SPLENDID SAMPLE OF THE RACE ACCURSED.
 
 CANTO THE FIRST. J5 
 
 I have a chance to hit this cursed thing 
 I'll hit it hard!" 
 
 A strange, prophetic ring 
 
 Lingered like music round each fateful word; 
 A sympathetic chord the woman stirred; 
 To greet the owner of that God-sent voice, 
 Destined to make the colored race rejoice, 
 She let her vision to his face ascend 
 Ah! blessed sight! there stood The Bondmen's 
 Friend. 
 
 CABIN IN WHICH LINCOLN WAS BGEX.
 
 Canto the Second 
 
 Lincoln's Inauguration. 
 
 'EARS, heavy laden, slowly rolled away, 
 < f? Each year unfolding such a dread array 
 
 ^ Of signs portentous that few thinkers failed 
 To read their meaning. Then wrong-doers quailed 
 As in the louring sky, o'erspread with gloom, 
 There flashed a thirsty sword, the coming doom 
 Of those oppressors who for greed of gain 
 Regardless of the life destroying pain 
 Their victims felt enslaved their fellow man, 
 And thus delayed the grand eternal plan 
 God-sent and Gocl-ordained that this great land 
 Peerless upon the earth shall always stand;
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 17 
 
 Shall yield its sceptre unto Truth alone, 
 While Liberty from her exalted throne 
 Shall flash the tidings overland and sea 
 That here, if nowhere else, all men are free. 
 
 Silent and haggard sat The Bondmen's Friend, 
 As through long vistas seeming without end 
 Of coming woes he sought with eager eyes 
 Some method God or angels might devise 
 By which the nation, now on war's dread brink, 
 Might yet escape, nor be compelled to drink 
 That bitter draught which all transgressors must 
 Drain to its dregs and own the fiat just. 
 
 The quest was vain; nor God nor angels deigned 
 To grant such hope. Then Lincoln's heart was 
 
 pained 
 
 That war must be; but since 'twas heaven's decree, 
 The future ruler bent submissive knee. 
 "I know," said he, "that liberty is right; 
 Christ teaches that, and Christ is God, and God's 
 
 my might."
 
 18 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Then were the nation's eyes on Lincoln turned, 
 And twice ten million hearts for Lincoln burned. 
 His was the hand they long had wished to find; 
 His was the counsel, his the strength of mind, 
 To guide the ardent wills of loyal crowds 
 To heights of honor up through turmoil's clouds. 
 Thus, when he left his humble western home; 
 His goal the nation's fairest, proudest dome; 
 The woodmen came from forests far and near. 
 And farmers left their plows to raise a cheer; 
 The artisans forsook their daily art, 
 And merchants poured from every bank and mart 
 To greet with loud huzzas and stirring song 
 The country's saviour as he rode along. 
 
 ( )ppression's champions heard these gladsome 
 
 songs; 
 
 They saw the vast and still increasing throngs 
 Who based their every hope on Lincoln's word, 
 And then with hatred deep, by folly stirred, 
 They laid their dark designs and swore that he 
 The man who thought and taught that all are free 
 By moral laws, the man who dared to say
 
 M *- 
 
 3 o 
 
 m O 
 
 3 CO 
 
 o 
 
 CO g 
 CO > 
 
 I
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 2J 
 
 That state from state can never break away 
 Should never take the presidential oath. 
 No; they would hire the dirk and pistol both, 
 And fill with gold a blood-bespattered hand 
 To lay in death this menace to the land. 
 
 As well might worms defy a tidal wave; 
 Or dying mortals mock the yawning grave; 
 Worms, men and nations bow to God's behest; 
 His will endures, and what he wills is best. 
 
 Apprised of danger, Lincoln's friends withdrew 
 Their modest pageant and their heralds, too. 
 Their prudence ruled that though he courted light, 
 His safest route were traversed best at night. 
 "Fwas thus they bore through darkened fields and 
 
 glades, 
 
 With prudent speed, their hero and his aids. 
 And though conspirators were all alert 
 To d their truest friend a deadly hurt, 
 Inauguration Day saw Lincoln stand 
 The most conspicuous man in all the land.
 
 22 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Most fateful hour the nation ever knew! 
 The far off nations felt its import, too; 
 And though the gathered crowds would fain be 
 
 glad, 
 
 A single glance into that face so sad 
 All joyful demonstrations soon allayed, 
 And brilliant statesmen bowed their heads and 
 
 prayed- 
 
 Prayed that the man who now before them stood, 
 Their future guide, might be both wise and good; 
 For though they felt that God's avenging hand 
 Would shortly fall on this misguided land, 
 They hoped that virtue at the throne of grace 
 Might ward the tribulation off a space. 
 
 Why was he sad, that man of giant form? 
 Did his enlightened soul discern the storm 
 That like a sullen, vengeance-laden cloud- 
 Destined to humble men, however proud 
 Would shortly burst? None but Jehovah knows. 
 Sad though he was, before both friends and foes 
 He faltered not to give the world his creed. 
 Conscious of inborn strength, he saw the need
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 23 
 
 Of no vainglorious words nor taunting boasts; 
 His strength was centered on the Lord of Hosts. 
 
 "Friends, fellow citizens," said Lincoln then, 
 "No brotherhood composed of sensate men, 
 If bound together 'neath one common seal, 
 Its only bond in life the common weal, 
 Has ever made provision for its end; 
 Nor can the wishes of a part transcend 
 The compact made by all. The bond once made 
 Must stand for ever. Be not, then, dismayed; 
 Our Union stands unbroken; still shall be; 
 Unless the power this day intrusted me 
 Be taken from me by the spoken will 
 Of you, my rightful masters. But until 
 That hour, of which I see no tangent sign, 
 This simple line of duty shall be mine: 
 To occupy and hold, wherever found, 
 The nation's property and then surround 
 The same with needful strength. Perchance it 
 
 may 
 
 Need more than passive strength. Now let me say 
 To you, my fellow countrymen, who chafe and fret,
 
 24 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 We are not foes, we meet as brethren yet. 
 The bonds of love in which we all were trained, 
 By foolish passions may be somewhat strained; 
 But break they must not. Doth not memory yield 
 The sacred cords that from each battle-field 
 And patriot grave reach every heart and home, 
 Where'er on this broad land our brethren roam? 
 Touched by our better natures, these shall swell 
 The chorus of the Union till the knell 
 Of dying nations ushers in the day 
 When earth and heaven in chaos pass away." 
 
 His earnest words burned deep; yea, they did 
 
 more; 
 
 They winged their way to every Christian shore, 
 Where monarchs reigned beneath imperial domes, 
 And legislators sat in princely homes. 
 Men skilled in statecraft, stratagem and guile, 
 Men who could look on war and blandly smile, 
 By intuition knew that Lincoln stood 
 Their peer in greatness, that their noble blood 
 And princely training paled beside the light
 
 CANTO THE SECOND. 25 
 
 f^ ' 
 
 Of this rough nobleman whose simple might 
 And inborn power to rule without deceit 
 No foe might combat and escape defeat. 
 
 Then, with his country's flag around unfurled, 
 In presence of his God and all the world, 
 Without intent from duty's path to swerve, 
 Did Lincoln swear to faithfully preserve, 
 Protect, defend, as God might give him light, 
 The Constitution and the people's right. 
 
 Thus closed the simple but impressive rite; 
 And when beneath the shades of restful night 
 The nation's toilers gathered round the board 
 The story-tellers drew upon their hoard 
 Of well selected tales. The children all, 
 In woodman's hut, in sumptuous, gilded hall, 
 With eager ears drank in the wondrous tale 
 Of Lincoln's youth; heard how when young and 
 
 hale 
 
 He felled the sturdy pines; that by the light 
 Of flickering fires that burned the livelong night
 
 26 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 He studied hard and filled his mind with lore, 
 And still he studied to increase the store; 
 Till, armed at every point, he sallied forth 
 And championed freedon. Then the South and 
 
 North, 
 
 The East and West soon heard of Lincoln's name, 
 And knew a giant mind was born to fame.
 
 Canto the Third 
 
 Lincoln's first Call jfor Groops. 
 
 O, ASK a man to buoy a sinking ship; 
 To quench a forest fire; or with a grip 
 Of human hand to lay a lion low; 
 
 Ask him to reap where brave men dare not sow; 
 
 To build a lighthouse on a shifting sand; 
 
 To gird the round world with an iron band; 
 
 These tasks were small, their burden light as air; 
 
 Nor could the lot combined in weight compare 
 
 With that which Lincoln not one whit appalled 
 
 Took on his shoulders when his country called.
 
 28 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 The point which others aimed at as their goal, 
 And in the winning threw their heart and soul, 
 \Vas but the point where Lincoln's task began. 
 There, line by line, was God's eternal plan 
 With steadfast, trusting hand by him unfurled, 
 Though hostile forces round him stormed and 
 swirled. 
 
 The Dred-Scott case decision had called forth 
 A wide-spread storm of wrath throughout the 
 
 North; 
 John Brown's mad raid had roused the Southern 
 
 ire, 
 
 The fancied insult set men's souls afire; 
 A weakling filled the presidential chair, 
 Supineness marked his every action there; 
 Traitors in Congress sat and talked with guile 
 And stole the nation's arms and wealth the while; 
 Secession's rumors filled the North with fear, 
 And wild alarmists turned the public ear 
 To those who saw in ea,ch event a sign 
 Of this proud nation's ruin and decline.
 
 CANTO THE THIRD. 29 
 
 No piles of bullion had the nation stored; 
 Her richest merchants held no bursting hoard; 
 Xo ships of war patrolled the bounding sea 
 To guard and keep her ports to commerce free. 
 Her soldiers all, for ruthless war untrained, 
 Each at his home an honest living gained. 
 
 Already had the rebel yell been heard, 
 And Anderson at Sumter had been stirred 
 To promptitude and warlike actions, too; 
 His energetic spirit saw and knew 
 That all around intriguers laid their snares, 
 And schemed to take Fort Sumter unawares. 
 But still the people of the North forebore 
 To think a cruel war was nigh; nay, more, 
 They hoped that wisdom would at once prevail, 
 And schemes for separation promptly fail. 
 
 The day, the fateful day, drew nigh at last 
 When South to North her gauntlet wildly cast; 
 When Beauregard his primal shot sent forth 
 And thrilled the trustful spirits of the North. 
 That shot, as through the morning air 'twas hurled,
 
 30 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Sent consternation round the Christian world, 
 Proclaiming, while the nations stood aghast, 
 That Freedom and Oppression had at last 
 Unsheathed their swords, that blood must now be 
 
 spilled, 
 And Freedom's land with Freedom's woes be filled. 
 
 Did Lincoln quail when Sumter's gallant few 
 From burning walls and threatened death with- 
 drew; 
 
 When Anderson from out that fort did bring 
 His country's flag, a torn and tattered thing? 
 No; for the Northern pulse was burning then; 
 He calmly sat and with official pen 
 Called on the states for troops of volunteers 
 To save the Union. Quick, with ringing cheers, 
 Up sprung the nation, ready for the fray, 
 And organized whole armies in a day. 
 
 The mighty forests, dreary and profound, 
 Re-echoed with the strange, stentorian sound; 
 The woodman dropped his axe and sought his gun; 
 "The Southern foe," said he, "shall fight or run."
 
 CANTO THE THIRD. 31 
 
 The farmer heard it as he wiped his brow, 
 And straightway in the furrow left his plow; 
 
 Went home and charged his wife to pray that harm 
 Might not befall him; gave the stock and farm 
 Into her care; then sought the nearest town, 
 And had his name with volunteers set down. 
 The merchant called his wife into his store; 
 
 s 
 
 Bade her good-bye and through the open door 
 Threw fervent kisses as he strode away 
 To face the sabres of the men in gray. 
 The lawyer left his office and his tomes, 
 And pastors left their modest, cozy homes, 
 While men of letters left their desks to fight 
 With swords, not pens for freedom and for right. 
 The widowed mother called her stalwart boys 
 They who had been for years her brightest joys 
 Around her chair and bade them everyone
 
 32 
 
 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Lay down their tools and seek a sworn or gun. 
 "I need you all at home," said she, "and fain 
 Would keep you, for the parting gives me pain 
 But duty to our country says me nay; 
 A foe to freedom menaces to-day 
 The torn foundations of our native land; 
 Then go you forth and join a soldier band. 
 Fight bravely, boys, and to your flag be true; 
 Die, rather than disgrace 'the boys in blue.'" 
 
 Thus did the patriotic North obey, 
 And organize whole armies in a day.
 
 Canto the Fourth. 
 
 Che Battle of Bull IRun. 
 
 THE LAMP of night in splendor rode on high, 
 And fleecy cloudlets graced a placid sky; 
 The night winds softly touched the forest 
 
 trees; 
 
 Nature and all her forces seemed at ease; 
 No jarring note informed the w r akeful ear 
 That aught save peace and harmony was near. 
 
 Alas! that nature's most seductive forms 
 So oft conceal the stealthy march of storms! 
 That views which seem most restful and serene, 
 The fiercest wars of passion often screen!
 
 34 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 What mean those flickering watch-tires on the 
 
 hill? 
 
 Those prostrate soldiers, sleeping now and still.' 
 Those wakeful sentries with their silent tread, 
 And passwords given with an accent dread? 
 Why does McDowell stand with eager gaze 
 And scan the sky for dawning's primal rays? 
 The tokens all foreshow a deadly tight 
 When morn's approach shall chase away the night. 
 
 The dawning came at last, and signs of strife 
 Sprung from earth's bosom into active life. 
 Two living armies, one in cheery blue 
 And one in somber gray, appeared in view; 
 And as morn's brighter rays around them strayed, 
 A gorgeous scene their moving colors made. 
 
 The soldiers rose and wiped the pearly dew 
 With zealous care from gun and scabbard, too; 
 Looked to their powder, ate a hurried meal. 
 And felt within as only soldiers feel 
 Who know their only duty is to tight. 
 And maybe die, to vindicate the right.
 
 CANTO THE FOURTH. 35 
 
 Already had the burning July sun 
 Two thirds his journey toward the noontide run, 
 When midst a little band of men in gray 
 A shot was sent, the signal for the fray. 
 But scarcely had the brunt of war begun 
 When Hunter fell; his brave career was run. 
 Then Slocum, too, received his mortal wound, 
 And soldiers, dead and dying, strewed the ground. 
 But Hunter's "Blues" soon had the driving hand, 
 As Sherman joined the fast pursuing band. 
 
 Down, down the northern slope of Young's 
 
 Branch ran 
 
 McDowell's army, cheering, every man; 
 The men in gray, too spiritless to cope 
 \Vith whelming numbers, faced the southern slope 
 And mounted it with quick, but weary, feet; 
 Their broken ranks implied no planned retreat. 
 They reached the summit; there surprising 
 
 sight! 
 
 They found a full brigade in trim to tight 
 In their defense, a wall of men in gray, 
 With lackson in command.
 
 36 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 "Away! away!" 
 
 Cried Bee to Jackson, see! they beat us back!" 
 Brave Jackson saw what Bee just then did lack. 
 "We'll give them bayonets," coolly answered he. 
 His firm demeanor shamed the flurried Bee; 
 "Form! Form!" he cried, "See, there, how Jack- 
 son stands 
 Like a stone wall!" Like thought a thousand 
 
 hands 
 
 Gripped with a firmer hold their weapons; then 
 They turned; they formed, and faced their foes 
 
 like men. 
 
 "Stonewall Jackson!" cried the gallant "Grays;" 
 "Stonewall Jackson!" Tomes of written praise 
 Could say no more; its magic pleased the men, 
 And turned the tide of battle there and then. 
 
 In vain the "Union Boys" with valor strained 
 Their every nerve to hold what they had gained. 
 Three times they wonat what a fearful cost! 
 The batteries they in weaker moments lost. 
 In vain they wished for re-enforcements then, 
 And feigned retreat, then braved the Grays again.
 
 CANTO THE FOURTH. 37 
 
 
 
 From every side they saw with grim despair, 
 As dust and smoke begrimed the sultry air 
 And lengthened shadows told of coming eve, 
 Their Southern foes some added strength receive. 
 
 "Here's Johnston from the vale!" the "Blues" 
 
 at last 
 
 In terror cried, and then the die was cast. 
 The Union soldiers homeward ran a race; 
 The battle ended, ended in disgrace; 
 No single soul would heed McDowell's call 
 To rally once again; their knapsacks all, 
 Their arms and ammunition strewed the way. 
 Thus were the "Blues" defeated by the "Gray." 
 
 But Lincoln was not vanquished; his reserve 
 Was still intact. The new recruits might swerve 
 From duty's path where gleaming swords were 
 
 red, 
 Where those who fought and those who bravely 
 
 led 
 
 Bestrewed a blood-stained field. But, braver man, 
 The President was ready with his plan.
 
 38 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Disaster on disaster might wring sighs 
 
 From his rough nature, tears from his kind eyes; 
 
 But from his purpose he could not be moved 
 
 Until he had Jehovah's purpose proved. 
 
 With mien unruffled Lincoln took his pen, 
 
 And called to arms a half a million men. 
 
 His timely firmness, like a beacon light 
 That pierces midnight's gloom and glads the sight, 
 Cheered and bestirred to greater efforts those 
 Who, rather than submit to freedom's foes, 
 Chose war's privations then to promptly brave, 
 To win their cause or fill a soldier's grave.
 
 Canto the Fifth. 
 
 HDcrrimac ant) fIDonitor. 
 
 OXG months of skirmishing each army spent, 
 Now winning laurels, then in quarters pent; 
 Despondent one day over vantage lost; 
 The next day on a wave of triumph tossed; 
 Each army learned that even leaden hail 
 'Gainst well trained soldiers was of small avail; 
 That uninstructed legions, though they stretched 
 From hill to hill, when skill and courage fetched 
 A phalanx there, would fall before the foe, 
 Their strength and numbers melt away like snow. 
 Both learned the lesson; both for learning paid;
 
 40 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Blood was the price; for many a field displayed 
 How heroes from the ranks of either side 
 Had bravely fought and, fighting, bravely died. 
 To war's mutations thus were all inured, 
 And each side deemed its own success assured. 
 
 The North had not forgotten that its coasts 
 Needed protection from the Southern hosts; 
 The South was mindful that its youthful fleet 
 Was ill prepared the Northern foe to meet. 
 Both realized that even on the sea 
 Neglect might court disaster, which might be 
 A point from which the conqueror could run 
 Klated with a triumph lightly won 
 To great and more decisive conquests, till 
 Experience, blended with increasing skill, 
 Might force the feebler combatants to yield, 
 Or fly with fear the last contested field. 
 
 In Hampton Roads, to block the passage way, 
 Some Northern ships in watchful silence lay. 
 Yes, they were watchful, for the Southern foe, 
 With dire intent to strike a fatal blow
 
 CANTO THE FIFTH. 41 
 
 At Northern shipping and its forts as well, 
 Had built a ship designed to ring the knell 
 Of Northern prestige and of Lincoln's, too, 
 And crush the hopes of all the Boys in Blue. 
 
 Ship, did we call it? 'twas a floating roof 
 Of heavy iron, shot- and bomb-shell proof. 
 First of her race was she, and ugly, too, 
 As any craft that ever loomed in view. 
 
 She came and dealt her blows with hellish force; 
 Her foes replied with shot; but that, of course, 
 Was powder wasted, for her master laughed 
 As every shot that struck, both fore and aft, 
 Glanced swiftly skyward on an aimless quest, 
 Or plunged beneath in briny mud to rest. 
 She crushed the Cumberland with horrid ease, 
 And then, as if the fearful work did please 
 Her callous master, struck another blow 
 And sent the Northern war ship down below. 
 Her sick and wounded found a watery grave; 
 Nought but her ensign floated o'er the wave.
 
 42 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Straight for the Congress then the monster 
 
 steered; 
 
 Elated with success, her gunners cheered; 
 The ship pursued was promptly run aground; 
 The Merrimac s commander therefore found 
 An easy prey at which he blazed with zeal 
 That made the Congress shiver to her keel. 
 One half her valiant crew were quickly slain; 
 The remnant bravely fought, but fought in vain; 
 The monster's missiles set the ship afire 
 What greater triumph could the South require! 
 Could greater glory in a war be earned? 
 The adversary slain, his war ships burned! 
 
 When morning came the Congress was no more; 
 Her smoking fragments strewed the pebbly shore; 
 Her living consorts still their ensigns waved, 
 And dubiously the Southern war ship braved 
 
 The Merrimac came down with movement proud; 
 Her massive beak the wavelets grandly plowed; 
 The Minnesota seemed an easy prey 
 To capture and in triumph bear away.
 
 CANTO THE FIFTH. 4 5 
 
 But promised glory sometimes proves a dream, 
 And truly some "things are not what they seem." 
 
 The Monitor, a weird, uncanny ship, 
 Most deftly then let all her moorings slip, 
 And stood defiant 'gainst that haughty thing 
 Whose merciless attacks such woe could bring. 
 The Southern gunners shook their sides and 
 
 laughed; 
 
 Called it "a little cheese box on a raft;" 
 As well they might, although that tiny form 
 Had faced and braved a fierce Atlantic storm. 
 Now, proudly confident of latent strength, 
 Her cool commander placed her dwarf-like length 
 In trim to fight the ship whose prestige then 
 Had filled with gloom the minds of Northern men. 
 
 The Merrimac commenced the fight with pride; 
 The Monitor with ponderous shot replied; 
 But each ship being clad with heavy mail, 
 The shot rebounded from their sides like hail. 
 Five times the bigger giant made essay 
 To run the smaller giant down. Straightway,
 
 46 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Each time, the smaller giant's guns repelled 
 The bold attempt, and once, at least, compelled 
 The bigger ship to run her keel aground; 
 Then, like a sprite, the stripling danced around, 
 Seeking and striking each unarmored spot, 
 And making quarters there intensely hot. 
 
 The Merrimac's commander, not yet foiled 
 Though for a time the sprite his plans had spoiled 
 Soon got his ship afloat and steamed straightway 
 To where the Minnesota waiting lay. 
 
 With Southern valor flashing in his eyes, 
 
 . 
 
 He swore to take that vessel as a prize, 
 Or give her with the Cumberland a berth 
 Where guns and valor are of little worth. 
 
 Van Brunt stood ready for the threatened crash; 
 His broadsides greeted with a stunning flash 
 The coming vessel. 'Twas of small avail; 
 For they who lived to tell the stirring tale 
 Said that her heavy shot, like pebbles, glanced 
 Harmlessly skyward as the foe advanced. 
 A shell then pierced the Minnesota's side;
 
 CANTO THE FIFTH. 47 
 
 But once again the little demon hied 
 
 The bigger one to harrass and to hound, 
 
 And forced once more the heavy hull aground. 
 
 The Minnesota, thankful it was so, 
 
 Rounded and pounded on her stranded foe, 
 
 Till he who ruled the primal iron ship 
 
 Thought prudence bade him from the combat slip; 
 
 With strenuous toil he floated off once more, 
 
 And steamed away as if the fight were o'er. 
 
 "Stay!"cried the gunner on the lesser ship, 
 "Before you go I'll try your wings to clip." 
 Quick after her the Monitor then raced; 
 The Merrimac in anger turned and faced 
 The saucy sprite, then rushed with fervid speed 
 To crush her bold tormentor; but the deed 
 Brought no results; the well aimed, forceful blow 
 Struck nought but empty air. The nimble foe, 
 Armored for such close fighting, forthwith tried 
 Her weighty shot against her rival's side. 
 Charge followed charge and each a volley brought, 
 A quick reply with weight and thunder fraught.
 
 48 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 And thus for hours, amid a deafening roar, 
 
 A duel raged the like of which before 
 
 The world had never seen. The mighty blows 
 
 That passed with lightning speed between these 
 
 foes 
 
 Stunned and appalled spectators on the land; 
 The sight, though fearful, was intensely grand. 
 
 To courage, swiftness, skill and strength com- 
 bined, 
 
 Success in war most often has inclined; 
 The present conflict no exception proved; 
 Both ships were damaged, but the bigger moved 
 First from the combat, and, with sinking stern, 
 To Norfolk's wharves in gloomy mood did turn. 
 Dejection clouded her commander's eyes; 
 He towed not at the stern his promised prize; 
 He had that day not e'en a war ship burned. 
 Instead, he had this crushing lesson learned: 
 Although the South had centered all its skill 
 In one strong ship, the North, more skillful still. 
 Had saved its fleet, redeemed its prestige, too, 
 And given all its hopes a rosy hue.
 
 CANTO THE FIFTH, 49 
 
 Throughout the North the cheering tidings 
 
 went, 
 
 And forthwith every patriot gave vent 
 To pent up cheers; and glad, tumultuous notes 
 Poured, unrestrained and strong, from countless 
 
 throats. 
 
 The legislature the inventor praised 
 Whose skill, unmatched, the nation's hopes had 
 
 raised; 
 
 From public platforms and from pulpits, too, 
 Came eulogies and plaudits not a few. 
 The press its potent, burning words sent forth 
 And roused to fervent joy the loyal North. 
 The people rushed from cities far and near 
 To gaze delighted and with vision clear 
 Upon that small, unique, unhandsome thing 
 Whose prowess made the hills and valleys ring. 
 
 Why all this gladness ? Why these peals of joy ? 
 The war still raged; the South might yet destroy 
 The wonder worker; these exultant airs 
 Again give place to war's perplexing cares!
 
 50 
 
 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 The President now knew, and knew it well, 
 The turning point was passed, though none could 
 
 tell 
 
 The fierceness of the struggle ere the goal 
 Would gladden with its light his burdened soul. 
 He, knowing that Jehovah ever meant 
 That right shall live unvanquished, smiled content; 
 His confidence with fervor gladly voiced; 
 The nation heard it and in sympathy rejoiced. 
 
 HANS ANDERSON. 
 
 The Last Survivor of the Monitor's Volunteer Crew.
 
 Canto the Sixth. 
 
 act of Emancipation, 
 
 LTHOUGH the negro long had worn a: yoke 
 And bared his back to many a cruel stroke, 
 His patient soul divined that he was not 
 By God forsaken to his hapless lot, 
 Hope lived within him, pointing with its ray 
 To some obscured emancipation day. 
 And yet, commingling with his hopeful song, 
 Was often heard, "How long, O Lord, how long?" 
 
 From husbands who had yielded loving wives 
 To dark oblivion of their future lives;
 
 52 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 From cotton fields where, leaning on his hoe, 
 The toiler raised no hand to stay the flow 
 Of welling tears; from many a cabin home 
 Whence fathers bade inquiring fancy roam 
 In search of sons and daughters loved too well- 
 Horn, loved and reared for other men to sell; 
 From many a mother's heart by anguish torn, 
 Hereft of all the loved ones she had borne, 
 Arose incessant plaints against the wrong, 
 And still they cried, "How long, O Lord, how 
 long?" 
 
 Frojn dungeon walls where prisoners shook their 
 
 chains, 
 
 And filled the air with weird, religious strains; 
 From minds beclouded with their thraldom's night; 
 From mansions where the captives' yoke seemed 
 
 light; 
 
 From every Southern dale and cultured plain 
 The plaintive cry went up with swelling strain. 
 It rose above the might of ocean's roar 
 That struck its notes upon the rugged shore;
 
 CANTO THE SIXTH. 53 
 
 The clash of warfare in the crimsoned vale 
 Was drowned beneath this all-important wail; 
 It gathered volume mid the upland rills, 
 And swept with grandeur up the wooded hills; 
 It stayed not in its gracious, heavenward flight 
 Till in the regions of celestial light- 
 Attended by a myriad angels there, 
 An earth-born-, earnest, agonizing prayer 
 From creatures groaning 'neath a cruel rod 
 It halted at the very throne of God, 
 And spread itself in accents pure and strong, 
 The same refrain, ''How long, O Lord, how long?" 
 
 An answer from the battlements above 
 To earth one day descended fraught with love, 
 Found a responsive chord in Lincoln's heart 
 And bade him promptly act a steward's part. 
 To him rare talents had been freely loaned; 
 For his avenging, souls in waiting groaned; 
 His was the hand Jehovah had decreed 
 Should stand between the bondman and his need; 
 Should strike the shackles from the captive 
 
 throngs, 
 And loose the chorus of ecstatic songs.
 
 54 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Severe reverses, sometimes real defeat, 
 At times had made the Northern gloom complete. 
 The Southern armies, therefore, boldly pushed 
 Their outposts northward, and would soon have 
 
 crushed 
 
 With dire defeat the loyal Keystone State; 
 But loyalty stood armed at every gate; 
 And even Maryland, th' invader knew, 
 Did not with favor his intrusion view. 
 
 The President, with faith unshaken still, 
 A trusty weapon held, and held it till 
 A more auspicious day when victors' songs 
 Might thrill once more the nation's loyal throngs. 
 The weapon Lincoln held had been designed 
 By Him who rules the fates of all mankind; 
 And though he held it in abeyance now, 
 The Bondmen's Friend had made a solemn vow- 
 Thereby to prove the goodness of that hand 
 Which ruled with chastening then the suffering 
 
 land- 
 That whensoe'er the Southern army might 
 From Maryland retreat in driven flight,
 
 CANTO THE SIXTH. 55 
 
 He'd crown the blessed victory with a deed 
 
 By which the slaves should one and all be freed. 
 
 The wished for turn of fortune came at last; 
 A dreaded crisis had been safely passed; 
 Antietam's bloody field admonished Lee 
 That Northern soil, however guileful he 
 Might be in warfare, still was unsafe ground 
 For Southern forces; therefore turned he round 
 And skillfully, but promptly, then withdrew 
 His menaced army and his outposts, too. 
 
 'Twas Lincoln's hour, the climax of his life- 
 No short-lived semblance of an inward strife 
 Delayed one moment his responsive pen; 
 The bravest, kindest, most beloved of men, 
 The strongest modern friend of humankind 
 He stood and firmly, but devoutly, signed 
 The document that made the bondmen free, 
 Co-heirs with him of heaven-born liberty. 
 
 Thus Lincoln, by a bold, decisive stroke, 
 The galling, hated chains of thraldom broke; 
 He wiped away a grievous crimson stain
 
 56 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 That on his country's record long had lain; 
 
 And in the rank of nations foremost placed 
 
 A young republic, now no more debased 
 
 In sight of Christendom and God because 
 
 Of foul oppression sanctioned by its laws. 
 
 No blare of trumpets heralded the deed; 
 
 For pageantry and pomp he saw no need; 
 
 No throng of courtiers did the hour attract; 
 
 No ceremonials sanctified the act; 
 
 To Lincoln's pure and grandly simple mind 
 
 'Twas all sufficient that his God inclined 
 
 To look with favor on his steward then 
 
 And bless the deed that blessed his fellow men. 
 
 The negroes in their lowly cabins heard 
 The gracious news that all the world had stirred; 
 And though there yet remained a hundred days 
 To thraldom's limit, jubilees of praise 
 Were mingled with each simple, fervent prayer 
 That rose like incense through the Southern air. 
 No longer rose that agonized refrain 
 That once had seemed to smite the heavens in 
 vain;
 
 CANTO THE SIXTH. 57 
 
 All now had child-like faith and trust in God, 
 Whose will parental could remove the rod. 
 Unwavering faith gave wings to those few days, 
 While hope's effulgent, soul ennobling rays 
 Broadened and brightened all good things in view, 
 And made the negro's world seem wholly new. 
 
 No pen can faithfully portray the night 
 That closed the era of the slaver's right 
 To buy, to brand, or with capricious will 
 Maltreat his fellow man with studied skill. 
 The carnal frame is circumscribed on earth; 
 Its acts, summed up, are oft of little worth; 
 The mind of man's the fountain of his might; 
 
 \Vhen that goes free Ah! who shall track its 
 
 flight? 
 
 The aged father sat with moistened eye 
 And watched the solemn, fateful hours go by; 
 His gray-haired wife sat near and prayed aloud, 
 And oft her head in adoration bowed. 
 Their youngsters soon their own refrained from 
 sleep,
 
 58 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Glad on that night a holy watch to keep. 
 
 Young husbands stood and smiled upon their 
 
 wives 
 
 The lights, the joys of all their future lives; 
 While tender fnpthers o'er their offspring wept 
 Hot tears of joy as those dark cherubs slept. 
 
 The fateful moment came, the midnight sound, 
 And straightway, with a glad, ecstatic bound, 
 Praise and loud hallelujahs filled the air; 
 Tears, holy tears of joy, fell everywhere. 
 The aged pilgrim clasped his tottering wife 
 His own at last, though near the end of life 
 And mingled praises with her earnest prayers 
 That few- henceforth might be their earthly cares; 
 The youthful husband took a fresh embrace 
 Of his young wife, and on her upturned face 
 Wept tears of rapture. Both were happy then; 
 They knelt and prayed, then wept with joy again. 
 Each happy mother praised the Lord aloud 
 And waked a chorus from the sable crowd 
 Of youngsters scampering o'er the cabin floor, 
 Who wondered wherefore all this glad uproar.
 
 CANTO THE SIXTH. 59 
 
 Joy, Unrestrained, burst forth in varied song; 
 From south to north its volume rolled along; 
 Fom east to west it sped with swelling sound; 
 It stayed not till it roved the world around; 
 And still it echoes God's benign decree, 
 Which Lincoln penned, that here all men are free.
 
 Canto the Seventh. 
 
 <Ibe %ast l?car of the TOar. 
 
 HE martial notes that struck each Southern 
 
 hill 
 & 3& Proclaimed the crimson war-stream flowing 
 
 still; 
 
 Its sinuous progress o'er the charred expanse 
 Of vales once verdant marked the stern advance 
 Of conquering legions. They were "men in blue," 
 Who fought for freedom and the Union, too. 
 
 The bravely stubborn men who wore the gray 
 Found their resources dwindling day by day,
 
 CANTO THE SEVENTH. 6J 
 
 Their utmost skill with greater skill attacked, 
 Their forts dismantled and their cities sacked. 
 Both armies wished to check the loss of life; 
 Both bravely fought to end the bloody strife; 
 But every soldier in his soldier foe 
 On march triumphant or in dust laid low- 
 Discerned a patriot, both true and brave, 
 Who gave his life his country's life to save. 
 
 The march of war seemed but a weary plod, 
 Men called for haste; but still the mills of God 
 Ground slowly, though they ground exceeding 
 
 small; 
 Nor could a mortal's haste God's plan forestall. 
 
 Haste genders rashness; rashness often ends 
 In dire disaster; but the man who blends 
 A prudent patience with a knowledge when 
 To strike may fight and live to fight again. 
 Such men in warfare are great men indeed; 
 And such were Grant and Sherman. They agreed 
 To try what each, eschewing haste, could do 
 By "hammering" at the South the summer through.
 
 62 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 They planned to harrass with persistent skill, 
 To give no rest, no breathing times, until 
 The final blow should tell of war's surcease 
 And sound the keynote of the wished-for peace. 
 
 Their plans matured, each general went his way 
 To plague forthwith the South from day to day. 
 Grant marched into the Wilderness and there 
 Harrassed the foe with might and zealous care. 
 His object was on Richmond to advance; 
 But Lee's troops led him many a weary dance; 
 And many a fierce engagement there was fought, 
 And every victory was dearly bought. 
 Yet Grant was stubborn, dogged, brave and true; 
 And though 'tis said ten thousand "men in blue" 
 Fell in one fight, he dreamed not of retreat; 
 His was a mood that never knew defeat. 
 
 Meanwhile, from Chattanooga Sherman moved 
 LIpon Atlanta. There the soldier proved 
 That, though a conqueror, he was still inspired 
 With human kindness; for although he fired 
 The mills and foundries with relentless hand
 
 CANTO THE SEVENTH. 63 
 
 He let the dwellings and the churches stand. 
 Then marched he from Atlanta to the sea; 
 Rain from the heavens and bullet-rain from Lee 
 Stayed not his march. His troops were now 
 
 inured 
 
 To war's mischances, and all ills endured 
 With resignation. E'en the cheerful song 
 Lightened their footsteps as they tramped along. 
 Each day the war's last battle nearer seemed; 
 Each night of home scenes many a soldier 
 
 dreamed. 
 
 At last! At last! the cruel war was o'er; 
 Right was triumphant; Freedom, battle sore, 
 Was Freedom still; unvanquished, yet alert, 
 By mercy swayed, to heal her foeman's hurt. 
 Stayed was war's havoc; stayed, the waste of life; 
 All arms were stacked; the purpose of the strife 
 Forgotten in the eagerness of men 
 To tie the bonds of brotherhood again. 
 
 Where then was Lincoln, he whose anxious eye 
 Had watched the troublous months and years go 
 by?
 
 64 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 Where was the man who skillfully had steered 
 The ship of state through dangers all else feared; 
 Whose courage saved the Union and removed 
 The bane that had almost its ruin proved? 
 Not as a judge sat he condemning those 
 To punishment who were his vanquished foes; 
 Not on a throne sat he with pomp to wait 
 The nation's plaudits of the good and great; 
 Nor in a chariot rode he that all eyes 
 Might see his glory like a halo rise. 
 
 In Richmond's streets the Bondmen's Friend 
 
 was found; 
 
 A thousand negroes hemmed his path around; 
 Each vied with each to greet with honest smile 
 The nation's head, and bless his name the while. 
 Each earnest preacher, with stentorian voice, 
 Called on his flock to thank God and rejoice 
 That they had been permitted thus to see 
 The man whose greatness made the lowly free. 
 Then every singer in that happy throng 
 Wove Lincoln's name in his exultant song;
 
 CANTO THE SEVENTH. 65 
 
 And, as their plaudits fell on Lincoln's ear, 
 His smile was brightened by a glistening tear; 
 Their joy was all his grateful soul could crave; 
 The simple scene more satisfaction gave 
 Than perorations which the crowds commend, 
 Or lofty strophes by a poet penned.
 
 ^C^CX. 
 
 Canto the Eighth. 
 
 Gbe Jfinal Blow. 
 
 FELT relieved and hopeful that at last 
 Their country's darkest period had been 
 
 passed; 
 
 That peaceful homes no more by hostile hordes 
 Should be destroyed; that guns and blood-red 
 
 swords 
 Henceforth should hang exempt from war's dark 
 
 crimes- 
 Mementoes only of those troublous times. 
 Abroad, the friends of freedom all rejoiced; 
 At home, the nation's joy had scarce been voiced. 
 The cause for joy, 'tis true, was full and grand; 
 It brightened every hamlet in the land;
 
 x
 
 CANTO THE EIGHTH. 69 
 
 But 'twas a joy that blended oft with grief 
 
 For Southern woes that called for prompt relief. 
 
 One evil sign told yet of coming ill 
 The sword of Justice flashed in anger still. 
 Men saw it not; but heaven's astonished throngs 
 Paused ere they struck the notes of joyful songs; 
 Then swiftly gathered round the vengeful form, 
 And thus essayed to turn the threatened storm: 
 
 "Ho! Justice, sheathe thy weary weapon now; 
 Canst thou not see how many millions bow 
 In gratitude to God that all seems o'er? 
 Why dash their hopes? Why rend the healing 
 
 sore? 
 
 Thy ruthless sword with blood has long been wet; 
 Stay, stay thy hand!" But Justice cried "Not yet." 
 
 "Ho! Justice, gaze upon the crimsoned vales; 
 See bleaching bones define the conquerors' trails; 
 See desolation where sleek herds once grazed; 
 And homes, once happy, now in ashes razed. 
 List to the tones of overwhelming grief 
 Bursting from hearts doomed ne'er to know relief;
 
 70 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 List to the widows mourning husbands dead; 
 To mothers wailing o'er the spirits fled; 
 See other nations haste to sympathize 
 With this one's woes; then surely from the skies 
 Should grace descend. Oh! Justice, stay thy hand, 
 And smite no more the contrite, suffering land. 
 Four years of war have surely paid its debt." 
 But Justice, still unmoved, replied "Not yet." 
 
 Amid the glad pulsations of a crowd, 
 Before the shrine of recreation bowed; 
 With war's dread tidings now no more depressed, 
 The mind of Lincoln sought its needed rest. 
 His honest soul had not divined that hate 
 The last foul spark might there in ambush wait. 
 But so it wai; the tragic moment came - 
 A sharp report! Booth's bullet found its aim, 
 And Lincoln fell. Oh! there was horror then 
 And blank despair! The surging waves of men 
 Could scarce command the words with which to 
 
 swear- 
 By highest heaven that he whose form lay there 
 Should be avenged. The nation felt the wound;
 
 CANTO THE EIGHTH. 71 
 
 And every heart, the startled country round, 
 Bled with fierce anguish, deep, but unconcealed- 
 Anguish that to the world its throes revealed. 
 Great God! what passions stirred the masses then! 
 "Revenge! Revenge!" ten thousand cried again 
 A thousand lives could not for this atone! 
 The life of Lincoln, brilliant and alone, 
 Was virtue, freedom, love for all mankind- 
 Three blessings in the nation's head combined. 
 
 But o'er the masses thus with anger swayed 
 A voice with power in earnest accents strayed 
 "God reigns above; our nation liveth still!" 
 The people heard, then bowed to heaven's will. 
 Thus was the nation's fiercest trial past, 
 And Justice sheathed her crimson sword at last. 
 
 Did Lincoln die? Did his magnific mind 
 Cease work because the gaze of humankind 
 No longer saw life's motions in the frame 
 That erst had housed his soul and borne a name? 
 No. Such a mind lives on, for ever lives, 
 And of its plenitude rich treasure gives
 
 72 LIBERTY'S MARTYR. 
 
 To nations seeking heaven's benignant light 
 His very name dispels oppression's night. 
 Through him the world has learned, is learning 
 
 still, 
 The might of right, backed by a strong man's 
 
 will. 
 
 And through unnumbered years that yet may roll 
 Ere Freedom shall o'er every vale and knoll 
 Of this tumultuous earth her sceptre sway, 
 The mind of Lincoln will not rest nor stay; 
 But live to conquer, while a stainless fame 
 Shall daily add new lustre to his name.
 
 Brothers, ail. 
 
 
 
 ROM my home in youth I wandered 
 Far and wide o'er scenes terrestrial; 
 Saw the races dark and swarthy, 
 
 And the yellow-faced Celestial; 
 
 Stunted Esquimaux and Red Men 
 
 Scorned by pale-faced men and others; 
 
 But, despite contempt and scorning, 
 
 All I recognized as brothers. 
 
 'Neath the equatorial splendor 
 Of the sun's effulgent beaming; 
 Where the plains are ever baking 
 And the broad lagoons are steaming; 
 Where the atmosphere malarial 
 Slays the Englishman and others- 
 There the black and stalwart negroes 
 Dwell, and they are all my brothers.
 
 74 BROTHERS, ALL. 
 
 Deep amid the forest tangle, 
 Where the night winds answer, moaning 
 To the howling of the jackal 
 And the bleeding victim's groaning 
 There I found the man whom some say 
 Has no conscience crime can smother; 
 Yet in him, amidst his baseness, 
 Lo! I recognized a brother. 
 
 Where the isles of ocean glisten 
 Like the gems on heaven's portals; 
 And the God-sent bread-fruit ripens 
 Food for throngs of favored mortals 
 Where in days gone by the wild men 
 Plundered, slew and ate each other; 
 Though degenerated sadly, 
 Still I recognized a brother. 
 
 Back again among the alleys, 
 Slums and by-ways of the city, 
 Where the air is thick with curses; 
 W T here the dulcet tones of pity
 
 _^ BROTHERS, ALL. 75 
 
 Seldom reach the ears of children 
 Born of creatures miscalled mothers- 
 There I found polluted, loathsome, 
 Fallen sisters, sinful brothers. 
 
 O, ye dreamers, learned prophets, 
 Orators and bold reformers, 
 Gabbling politicians, authors, 
 Zealots, priests and pulpit stormers! 
 Earth will never be an Eden 
 Till the claims and rights of others- 
 Black men, white men, red or yellow- 
 Are respected as our brothers'.
 
 <Smi\> a IRose. 
 
 fNLY a rose," said a heedless girl, 
 As it fell from her breast to the dusty street; 
 It was soon forgotten mid hurry and whirl 
 And the tramp of a thousand busy feet. 
 But a shoeless lad had espied the flow'r 
 And carried it off as a wondrous prize; 
 It cheered a sick brother through many an hour, 
 And brightened his languishing, dying eyes. 
 
 Only a rose; but 'twas piously laid 
 With tenderest care on a verdureless grave; 
 And its petals a halo of sweetness made 
 Like that which the bowers of Eden gave; 
 And it gladdened the heart of that orphan boy 
 As he laid it down on that mound to rest; 
 For he said "It will heighten my brother's joy 
 To see me fulfilling his last request."
 
 TOe're Ibomewarb Boimfc. 
 
 NCE restless Fancy left her home, 
 Across the wide, wide world to roam; 
 And wandering where so often rest 
 
 The ships asleep on Ocean's breast, 
 
 She hovered near a vessel fair, 
 
 Where, poised upon the midnight air, 
 
 Amid the stilness, else profound, 
 
 She heard a voice "We're homeward bound." 
 
 She saw that vessel tempest driven, 
 Her bulwarks broke, her topsails riven; 
 Her laboring hull and battered form 
 A target for the cruel storm; 
 She saw the wild waves breaking o'er 
 Her decks where all was peace before; 
 But still the hope inspiring sound 
 Broke through the storm "We're homeward 
 bound."
 
 78 WE'RE HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 She saw that graceful vessel glide- 
 Befriended by both wind and tide 
 Into a harbor's safe retreat 
 Where long lost vessels daily meet; 
 And though upon her damaged form 
 She bore the marks of many a storm, 
 Her crew still sang with cheering sound 
 The glad refrain "We're homeward bound." 
 
 She saw a child of humble birth 
 Launch out upon this stormy earth; 
 And mid the waves and shoals of life, 
 Mid rocks of grief and whirls of strife, 
 Long time he sought what humankind 
 So often seek but seldom find. 
 At last a guiding hand he found 
 On which was writ "We're homeward bound." 
 
 That guiding hand he followed long, 
 When pains were sharp and grief was strong; 
 When that grim monster Death bereaved, 
 With meekness he the blow received;
 
 WE'RE HOMEWARD BOUND. 79 
 
 Or when misfortune tore away 
 
 The gains he toiled for day by day, 
 
 Above each woe would still resound 
 
 The cheering lay "We're homeward bound." 
 
 She saw the man, grown old and gray, 
 Walk warily life's lonesome way; 
 But though his faltering gait betrayed 
 The inroads fell disease had made; 
 Though rapid strides he dared not try, 
 A ray of hope lit up his eye 
 And cheered him o'er the toilsome ground, 
 As still he read "We're homeward bound." 
 
 And when at length the final storm 
 Laid low his fragile, tottering form; 
 When Death, to end his earthly race, 
 Stood gaunt before the old man's face; 
 The legend, still with comfort fraught, 
 To sinking nature solace brought 
 His last wish this: "Above my mound 
 This motto write, 'We're homeward bound.' '
 
 Stoc b Sfoe. 
 
 HEY were sitting side by side in life's morning 
 
 bright and fair; 
 ocw He was ruddy, strong and healthy; she pos- 
 sessed a beauty rare; 
 They were only little children; yet their converse 
 
 was of love, 
 
 And their simple-worded promises were registered 
 above. 
 
 They were learning side _by side, under teachers 
 grave and wise; 
 
 And they drank from founts of knowledge that 
 for youthful learners rise; 
 
 And his help was freely given with such tender- 
 ness and grace 
 
 That her gratitude was ever beaming through her 
 lovely face.
 
 SIDE BY SIDE. Si 
 
 X '*?*- '- 
 
 They were playing side by side, and his ever 
 watchful eye, 
 
 Like a loving guardian angel, was for ever hover- 
 ing nigh; 
 
 They were 'mid the snares of childhood, but his 
 arm so young and strong 
 
 Saved her fair and fragile figure from impendirg 
 harm and wrong. 
 
 They were walking side by side when their school 
 
 days all had flown; 
 When the rose of early manhood in his healthful 
 
 face had blown; 
 When her beauty, like a fragrance, lured him 
 
 often to her side, 
 And again they vowed that never aught but death 
 
 should part'therh wide. 
 
 They were standing side by side 'twas the long 
 
 sought hour of bliss 
 When the ritual was concluded, and the sacred, 
 
 honest kiss
 
 82 SIDE BY SIDE. 
 
 Was bestowed with welcome fervor, as the newly 
 
 wedded wife, 
 Leaning on his manly vigor, launched upon the 
 
 sea of life. 
 
 They were fighting side by side in life's battle, 
 
 roar and din, 
 In the struggle for existence, midst the whirls of 
 
 strife and sin; 
 But they bravely faced each danger, though they 
 
 never sought a foe, 
 And they shared the victors' laurels when the 
 
 almond flow's did blow. 
 
 They were resting side by side in their cottage 
 old and gray; 
 
 Waiting, waiting, calmly waiting for the separa- 
 tion day. 
 
 Still the unextinguished fires of their ancient love 
 burned high; 
 
 Though the ears of both were heavy, and a cloud 
 bedimmed each eye.
 
 SIDE BY SIDE. 83 
 
 <r 
 
 They are lying side by side in the grave-yard 
 
 'neath the sod, 
 Where they rest from all their labors till the 
 
 mighty trump of God 
 Shall recall to forms of beauty souls that from 
 
 our vision glide, 
 And replace the loving spirits in his kingdom 
 
 side by side.
 
 STOOD where Babylonia's streams 
 Glide with funereal pace 
 And melancholy grace 
 Beneath the sheen of Luna's playful beams. 
 
 Luxuriant willows graced the scene, 
 
 Enhancing evening's charms 
 
 And banishing alarms; 
 For Riot dared not come where Peace was 
 
 queen. 
 
 The north wind moaned a plaintive wail, 
 
 And Echo scarcely heard 
 
 The love songs of that bird 
 Whose trilling oft pervades the sleeping vale. 
 
 A band of harpers, bending low 
 Each grief worn, anxious face, 
 Approached the hallowed place 
 
 With drooping gait and footsteps sad and 
 slow.
 
 MUSIC 85 
 
 There, underneath the willows' shade, 
 
 They struck a mournful lay 
 
 That drove all joys away- 
 Then Sorrow came and lamentation made. 
 
 My peace was gone; gone was my joy; 
 Nor could they soothe again 
 The heart they smote with pain 
 
 Their cords vibrated only to destroy. 
 
 I stood where Riot reigned supreme; 
 
 Where all the songs of mirth 
 
 That ever yet had birth 
 Were blended like the figures in a dream. 
 
 Fantastic airs and swelling notes 
 
 Of wild, hilarious lays, 
 
 Joy, rapture, love and praise 
 Poured, unmelodious, from a myriad throats. 
 
 The drum, the harp, the trembling lyre, 
 The sweetly plaintive lute, 
 The breathing, vocal flute, ..,[ 
 
 Conspired to fill my soul with fierce desire.
 
 86 MUSIC. 
 
 But from them all I turned aside 
 
 As cloudlets, light and rare, 
 
 Melt in the summer air, 
 Those evanescent pleasures paled and died. 
 
 I stood beneath a dome profound, 
 
 Where all the builder's will 
 
 Was patent in the skill 
 Displayed to catch and heighten every 
 sound. 
 
 An organist was there whose hands 
 Seemed touched with heaven's fire, 
 So high did he aspire 
 As if his life's desire 
 
 Was to out-measure heaven's seraphic 
 bands, 
 
 Above the earth my soul he bore 
 Into a wide abyss 
 Of wild, ecstatic bliss, 
 Joy followed swelling joy; 
 Raptures without alloy
 
 MUSIC. 87 
 
 Rose, bearing me along 
 On tempest whirls of song 
 
 Beyond aye, far beyond life's tuneless 
 
 roar. 
 
 Alas! one harsh, false note he played, 
 And back upon the world 
 My wounded soul was hurled, 
 
 Like soaring dove struck by the zigzag 
 blade. 
 
 I stood where none but dreamers stand, 
 And heard this mighty sphere 
 Roll out, year after year, 
 
 Its own majestic tones from sea and land. 
 
 Each living creature raised its voice 
 
 In concert as the sun 
 
 His blithesome task begun, 
 And bade each other tunefully rejoice. 
 
 The forest trees, a stately band, 
 
 Like minstrels stood and played; 
 They caught each breeze that strayed, 
 
 Transforming every breath to sweetness 
 grand.
 
 88 MUSIC. 
 
 Each little brook essayed a song; 
 
 Each wavelet sung its lay; 
 
 While through the ceaseless day 
 Niagara's voice was musical and strong. 
 
 The ocean roared against the main; 
 
 A thousand caves replied; 
 
 Their echoes swelled and died, 
 And rolling thunders toned a grand refrain. 
 
 Though all else pleased, I could not close 
 
 My still attentive ear 
 
 To tones of p>ain and fear- 
 Soul piercing tortesthat told of earthly woes. 
 
 I stood where legions of redeemed, 
 
 From every tribe and clime, 
 
 In every age and time, 
 
 Through heaven's open gate have gladly 
 streamed. 
 
 One great ambition swayed me then; 
 
 It promised perfect bliss, 
 
 Ah! did I seek amiss? 
 
 To learn and bring heaven's music down to 
 men.
 
 MUSIC. 89 
 
 It could not be; a seraph bright, 
 
 Benevolent and kind, 
 
 My ardent wish divined, 
 And sped to shut all heaven from my sight. 
 
 Yet in my visions, passing fair, 
 He came with goodness filled, 
 And through my soul instilled 
 
 This new conception of the music there: 
 
 In yon blest realm, where love doth dwell, 
 No dubious words can vex, 
 Nor foreign tongues perplex 
 
 Music is heaven's language; learn it well.
 
 I 
 
 Genuine 
 
 X A DREAM I was seeking a genuine man, 
 And a man with a pure, lofty aim; 
 
 So I sailed to the east and I rode to the west, 
 Till my journeyings brought me some fame 
 From the frost of the north to the ice of the south, 
 Over every dominion between; 
 But the bright, beaming face of a genuine man 
 Was a gem that but seldom was seen. 
 
 All the monarchs of earth in their regal attire 
 
 Passed beneath my inquisitive gaze; 
 
 And their splendor and pomp were a sight to 
 
 behold, 
 
 For bedazzling were royalty's rays; 
 But the pageantry faded, the lustre all died, 
 When the blaze of their presence had passed, 
 And I loitered in vain on their track to discern 
 If a perfume their lifetimes had cast.
 
 THE GENUINE MAN. 9J 
 
 Then the grandees came on with a proud, 
 
 haughty mien 
 
 And their tall genealogical trees, 
 While the servitors fawningly walked in their 
 
 train, 
 
 Or they grovelled the lordlings to please. 
 Amid sporting and feasting these lived out their 
 
 day, 
 
 And they passed from life's changeable scene; 
 But the names that still shone when the dust 
 
 claimed its own 
 Were but feeble and distant between. 
 
 Then a concourse I saw, and each one had a 
 
 tongue 
 
 That was oiled when the owner thought meet; 
 And for those who are easily flattered or gulled 
 They had always a wonderful treat. 
 By their cozening, lying and promising much 
 They secured the high seats they desired, 
 Where a few of them shone; but alas! for their 
 
 light, - 
 But a moment it blazed, then expired.
 
 92 THE GENUINE MAN. 
 
 From my view point so high, then, perforce, I came 
 
 down, 
 
 And I mixed with the general crowd, 
 With the wise and the subtle, the sordid, the 
 
 throng 
 
 Who for ages to Mammon have bowed; 
 And I found here and there but alas! they were 
 
 scarce 
 
 On the sand of life's wave beaten shore, 
 The deep footprints of those who to benefit men 
 Have devoted time, talents and store. 
 
 They have lived with an aim that they never 
 
 forgot 
 
 E'en amid their own seasons of woe; 
 And that aim was to brighten the dark spots of 
 
 life, 
 
 And to show where the brighter ones glow; 
 To proclaim to their kind that each man has a 
 
 place 
 
 That no man but himself can well fill; 
 And that duty neglected, whate'er the excuse, 
 To the whole world can bring nought but ill.
 
 THE GENUINE MAN. 
 
 93 
 
 Then the genuine man is a man whom the world, 
 
 Be it never so wicked, will own 
 
 Has a claim to be honored, respected and loved, 
 
 And to occupy memory's throne; 
 
 And his name upon history's pages shall shine 
 
 Like a gem amid pebbles or clay, 
 
 And the record of deeds he accomplished in life 
 
 Be a chart to show millions their way.
 
 a Sitlb jfrom tbc 
 
 WHERE the crystal streamlet floweth; 
 Where the fragrant briar groweth, 
 And the south wind gently bloweth, 
 
 I would gladly stray; 
 Where the sun his glory lendeth 
 To the verdant bough that bendeth 
 O'er the stream that onward tendeth 
 Bask the hours away. 
 
 There, beneath a tree reclining 
 Heaven and earth around me shining- 
 Gazing on the silver lining 
 
 Of each passing cloud; 
 Lost in blissful admiration; 
 O the pleasing situation! 
 Brief, but blessed separation 
 
 From the sordid crowd!
 
 A SIGH FROM THE CITY. 95 
 
 There the bee industrious singeth, 
 All day long her voyage wingeth 
 O'er the region whence she bringeth 
 
 Earth's ambrosial food; 
 There the merry cricket danceth; 
 There the fleet-winged swallow glanceth 
 Midst the throng whose hum enhanceth 
 
 Nature's happy mood. 
 
 From the scenes arousing pity; 
 From the dreary, smoky city, 
 With its unmelodious ditty, 
 
 Gladly would I stray; 
 Where the joys of earth are dearer; 
 W'here the views of heaven are clearer, 
 And the bliss of heaven seems nearer, 
 
 Bask the hours away.
 
 Wifce, Wifce Sea, 
 
 lei THERE'S nought like a trip on the wide, 
 
 wide sea 
 Where the sea-birds rove and the winds are 
 
 free; 
 
 Where the wavelets dance o'er the boundless view, 
 And the sunshine heightens their beauteous blue; 
 Where the porpoise gambols and turtles sleep 
 In the ceaseless plash of the sleepless deep; 
 Where revel the hugest forms that be- 
 Then O for a trip on the wide, wide sea! 
 
 When the turmoils of life, like a thorny load, 
 Bewilder me, harrass me, worry and goad; 
 When the toiling limbs and the active brain, 
 Or the body distressed by wasting pain, 
 Require a rest and a bracing air, 
 Let me sail on thy bosom, thou sea so fair: 
 For there's life in thy fragrance, and health for me; 
 Then O for a trip on the wide, wide sea!
 
 Hovers' <3oofc IRigbt. 
 
 E STOOD at the end of the rustic street 
 
 Where the village youngsters nightly meet; 
 
 But the village youngsters were all abed 
 And the moon, from the canopy overhead, 
 
 Looked down on a pleasing sight; 
 For her hand was clasped in a hand of mine, 
 And her eyes with the starting tears did shine, 
 And a sigh escaped her little frame; 
 It came unbidden, but still it came, 
 
 When one of us said "Good night." 
 
 I will not say which of us said the word; 
 But the other one seemed to have never heard; 
 For our hands lost not their impulsive hold 
 And the stars in their nightly courses rolled 
 
 Like diamonds rare and bright; 
 W T hile the dew came down on the way-side grass; 
 And the lightsome hours did lightly pass;
 
 98 THE LOVERS' GOOD NIGHT. 
 
 But I still held her hand, and she held mine- 
 Two hours before had the clock struck nine; 
 We knew it and said "Good night." 
 
 But hands do not always obey the will; 
 She tightened her grasp and I held her still; 
 The morrow would come, and the briny tide 
 With its ruthless billows would us divide; 
 
 And years, in their lazy flight, 
 Might deaden the love that was now aflame- 
 Such thoughts, unbidden, unwelcomed, came 
 The birds from their warbling mates might fly; 
 Our love for each other should never die; 
 
 We promised, and said "Good night." 
 
 But still my fingers were unreleased; 
 The strength of my hold on hers increased; 
 The language of love, like a murmuring rill, 
 Flowed softly and smoothly on until 
 The moon refused us her light; 
 A policeman passed on his nightly tour, 
 And the village clock struck the midnight hour,
 
 THE LOVERS' GOOD NIGHT. 
 
 As a chilling breeze, like a peri's sigh, 
 From the gorse clad hills came sweeping by- 
 We shivered and said "Good night." 
 
 As if by elves' enchantments chained, 
 Our hands in that mystic grasp remained; 
 Not e'en the chilling midnight breeze, 
 Nor health's unbending, stern decrees 
 
 Could shorten our love's delight; 
 But time stays not for lovers' prayers; 
 The morrow's woes, the morrow's cares 
 Must each be met we knew it well- 
 One awful wrench! we broke the spell; 
 
 We kissed, and we-said "Good night." 
 
 99

 
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