FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   >>  
ars, Phillips, Lawrence, Hemenway,--to the list Add Sanders, Sibley,--all the Muse has missed. Once more I turn to read the pictured page Bright with the promise of the coming age. Ye unborn sons of children yet unborn, Whose youthful eyes shall greet that far-off morn, Blest are those eyes that all undimmed behold The sights so longed for by the wise of old. From high-arched alcoves, through resounding halls, Clad in full robes majestic Science calls, Tireless, unsleeping, still at Nature's feet, Whate'er she utters fearless to repeat, Her lips at last from every cramp released That Israel's prophet caught from Egypt's priest. I see the statesman, firm, sagacious, bold, For life's long conflict cast in amplest mould; Not his to clamor with the senseless throng That shouts unshamed, "Our party, right or wrong," But in the patriot's never-ending fight To side with Truth, who changes wrong to right. I see the scholar; in that wondrous time Men, women, children, all can write in rhyme. These four brief lines addressed to youth inclined To idle rhyming in his notes I find: Who writes in verse that should have writ in prose Is like a traveller walking on his toes; Happy the rhymester who in time has found The heels he lifts were made to touch the ground. I see gray teachers,--on their work intent, Their lavished lives, in endless labor spent, Had closed at last in age and penury wrecked, Martyrs, not burned, but frozen in neglect, Save for the generous hands that stretched in aid Of worn-out servants left to die half paid. Ah, many a year will pass, I thought, ere we Such kindly forethought shall rejoice to see,-- Monarchs are mindful of the sacred debt That cold republics hasten to forget. I see the priest,--if such a name he bears Who without pride his sacred vestment wears; And while the symbols of his tribe I seek Thus my first impulse bids me think and speak: Let not the mitre England's prelate wears Next to the crown whose regal pomp it shares, Though low before it courtly Christians bow, Leave its red mark on Younger England's brow. We love, we honor, the maternal dame, But let her priesthood wear a modest name, While through the waters of the Pilgrim's bay A new-born Mayflower shows her keels the way. Too old grew Britain for her mother's beads,-- Must we be necklaced with her children's creeds? Welcome alike in surplice or in gown The loyal lieges of the Heavenly Crown! We greet with cheerfu
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   17   18   19   20   21   22   23   24   25   26   27   28   29   30   31   32   33   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   >>  



Top keywords:

children

 

England

 

sacred

 

priest

 
unborn
 

rejoice

 

kindly

 

vestment

 

forethought

 

republics


mindful

 

Monarchs

 

forget

 
hasten
 
Martyrs
 
wrecked
 

penury

 

burned

 

neglect

 

frozen


closed

 

lavished

 

intent

 
endless
 

generous

 

thought

 
stretched
 
servants
 

Mayflower

 
Pilgrim

priesthood
 

modest

 
waters
 

surplice

 
lieges
 

Heavenly

 

cheerfu

 
Welcome
 

mother

 

Britain


creeds

 
necklaced
 

maternal

 

prelate

 
impulse
 

symbols

 

Younger

 

Christians

 
shares
 

Though