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Whose laws, imperfect and unjust, Thy just and perfect purpose serve: The needle, howsoe'er it swerve, Still warranting the sailor's trust,--
G.o.d, lift thy hand and make us free To crown the work thou hast designed.
O, strike away the chains that bind Our souls to one idolatry!
The liberty thy love hath given We thank thee for. We thank thee for Our great dead fathers' holy war Wherein our manacles were riven.
We thank thee for the stronger stroke Ourselves delivered and incurred When--thine incitement half unheard-- The chains we riveted we broke.
We thank thee that beyond the sea The people, growing ever wise, Turn to the west their serious eyes And dumbly strive to be as we.
As when the sun's returning flame Upon the Nileside statue shone, And struck from the enchanted stone The music of a mighty fame,
Let Man salute the rising day Of Liberty, but not adore.
'Tis Opportunity--no more-- A useful, not a sacred, ray.
It bringeth good, it bringeth ill, As he possessing shall elect.
He maketh it of none effect Who walketh not within thy will.
Give thou or more or less, as we Shall serve the right or serve the wrong.
Confirm our freedom but so long As we are worthy to be free.
But when (O, distant be the time!) Majorities in pa.s.sion draw Insurgent swords to murder Law, And all the land is red with crime;
Or--nearer menace!--when the band Of feeble spirits cringe and plead To the gigantic strength of Greed, And fawn upon his iron hand;--
Nay, when the steps to state are worn In hollows by the feet of thieves, And Mammon sits among the sheaves And chuckles while the reapers mourn;
Then stay thy miracle!--replace The broken throne, repair the chain, Restore the interrupted reign And veil again thy patient face.
Lo! here upon the world's extreme We stand with lifted arms and dare By thine eternal name to swear Our country, which so fair we deem--
Upon whose hills, a bannered throng, The spirits of the sun display Their flashing lances day by day And hear the sea's pacific song--
Shall be so ruled in right and grace That men shall say: "O, drive afield The lawless eagle from the shield, And call an angel to the place!"
RELIGION.
Ha.s.san Bedreddin, clad in rags, ill-shod, Sought the great temple of the living G.o.d.
The worshippers arose and drove him forth, And one in power beat him with a rod.
"Allah," he cried, "thou seest what I got; Thy servants bar me from the sacred spot."
"Be comforted," the Holy One replied; "It is the only place where I am not."
A MORNING FANCY.
I drifted (or I seemed to) in a boat Upon the surface of a sh.o.r.eless sea Whereon no ship nor anything did float, Save only the frail bark supporting me; And that--it was so shadowy--seemed to be Almost from out the very vapors wrought Of the great ocean underneath its keel; And all that blue profound appeared as naught But thicker sky, translucent to reveal, Miles down, whatever through its s.p.a.ces glided, Or at the bottom traveled or abided.
Great cities there I saw--of rich and poor, The palace and the hovel; mountains, vales, Forest and field, the desert and the moor, Tombs of the good and wise who'd lived in jails, And seas of denser fluid, white with sails Pushed at by currents moving here and there And sensible to sight above the flat Of that opaquer deep. Ah, strange and fair The nether world that I was gazing at With beating heart from that exalted level, And--lest I founder--trembling like the devil!
The cities all were populous: men swarmed In public places--chattered, laughed and wept; And savages their shining bodies warmed At fires in primal woods. The wild beast leapt Upon its prey and slew it as it slept.
Armies went forth to battle on the plain So far, far down in that unfathomed deep The living seemed as silent as the slain, Nor even the widows could be heard to weep.
One might have thought their shaking was but laughter; And, truly, most were married shortly after.
Above the wreckage of that silent fray Strange fishes swam in circles, round and round-- Black, double-finned; and once a little way A bubble rose and burst without a sound And a man tumbled out upon the ground.
Lord! 'twas an eerie thing to drift apace On that pellucid sea, beneath black skies And o'er the heads of an undrowning race; And when I woke I said--to her surprise Who came with chocolate, for me to drink it: "The atmosphere is deeper than you think it."
VISIONS OF SIN.
KRASLAJORSK, SIBERIA, March 29.
"My eyes are better, and I shall travel slowly toward home."
DANENHOWER.
From the regions of the Night, Coming with recovered sight-- From the spell of darkness free, What will Danenhower see?
He will see when he arrives, Doctors taking human lives.
He will see a learned judge Whose decision will not budge Till both litigants are fleeced And his palm is duly greased.
Lawyers he will see who fight Day by day and night by night; Never both upon a side, Though their fees they still divide.
Preachers he will see who teach That it is divine to preach-- That they fan a sacred fire And are worthy of their hire.
He will see a trusted wife
(Pride of some good husband's life) Enter at a certain door And--but he will see no more.
He will see Good Templars reel-- See a prosecutor steal, And a father beat his child.
He'll perhaps see Oscar Wilde.
From the regions of the Night Coming with recovered sight-- From the bliss of blindness free, That's what Danenhower'll see.
1882.
THE TOWN OF DAE.
_Swains and maidens, young and old, You to me this tale have told._