The American Union Speaker Part 58

AM I FOR PEACE? YES.

For the peace which rings out from the cannons' throat, And the suasion of shot and sh.e.l.l, Till Rebellion's spirit is trampled down To the depths of its kindred h.e.l.l.

For the peace which shall follow the squadron's tramp, Where the brazen trumpets bray, And, drunk with the fury of storm and strife, The blood-red chargers neigh.

For the peace which shall wash out the leprous stain Of our slavery--foul and grim, And shall sunder the fetters which creak and clank On the down-trodden dark man's limb.

I will curse him as traitor, and false of heart, Who would shrink from the conflict now, And will stamp it, with blistering, burning brand, On his vitreous, Cain-like brow.

Out! out of the way! with your spurious peace, Which would make us Rebellion's slaves; We will rescue our land from the traitorous grasp, Or cover it with our graves.

Out! out of the way! with your knavish schemes!

You trembling and trading pack!

Crouch away in the dark, like a sneaking hound That its master has beaten back.

You would barter the fruit of our fathers' blood, And sell out the Stripes and Stars, To purchase a place with Rebellion's votes, Or escape from Rebellion's scars.

By the widow's wail, by the mother's tears, By the orphans who cry for bread, By our sons who fell, we will never yield Till Rebellion's soul is dead.

Anonymous.

CCCXXVI.

THE GREAT BELL ROLAND.

Toll! Roland, toll!

In Old St. Bavon's tower, At midnights hour, The great bell Roland spoke!

All souls that slept in Ghent awoke!

What meant the thunder stroke?

Why trembled wife and maid?

Why caught each man his blade?

Why echoed every street With tramp of thronging feet All flying to the city's wall?

It was the warning call That Freedom stood in peril of a foe!

And even timid hearts grew bold Whenever Roland tolled, And every hand a sword could hold!

So acted men Like patriots then, Three hundred years ago!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Bell never yet was hung, Between whose lips there swung So grand a tongue!

If men be patriots still, At thy first sound True hearts will bound, Great souls will thrill!

Then toll and strike the test Through each man's breast, Till loyal hearts shall stand confess'd,-- And may G.o.d's wrath smite all the rest!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Not now in old St. Bavon's tower-Not now at midnight hour-- Not now from River Scheldt to Zuyder Zee, But here,--this side the sea!--.

Toll here, in broad, bright day!-For not by night awaits A n.o.ble foe without the gates, But perjured friends within betray, And do the deed at noon!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Thy sound is not too soon!

To Arms! Ring out the Leader's call!

Reecho it from East to West, Till every hero's breast Shall swell beneath a soldier's crest!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Till cottager from cottage wall s.n.a.t.c.h pouch and powder-horn and gun!

The sire bequeathed them to the son, When only half their work was done!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Till swords from scabbards leap!

Toll! Roland, toll!

What tears can widows weep Less bitter than when brave men fall?

Toll! Roland, toll!

In shadowed hut and small Shall lie the soldier's pall, And hearts shall break while graves are filled!

Amen! So G.o.d has willed!

And may his grace anoint us all!

Toll! Roland, toll!

The Dragon on thy tower Stands sentry to this hour, And Freedom so stands safe in Ghent!

And the merrier bells now ring, And in the land's serene content Men shout "G.o.d save the King!"

Until the skies are rent!

So let it be; For a kingly king is he Who keeps his people free!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Ring out across the sea!

No longer They but We Have now such need of thee!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Forever may thy throat Keep dumb its warning note Till Freedom's perils be outbraved!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Till Freedom's flag, wherever waved, Shall overshadow not a man enslaved!

Toll! Roland, toll!

From Northern lake to Southern strand, Toll! Roland, toll!

Till friend and foe, at thy command, Once more shall clasp each other's hand, And shout, one-voiced, "G.o.d save the land!"

And love the land that G.o.d hath saved!

Toll! Roland, toll!

T. Tilton.

CCXXVII.

THE Ma.s.sACHUSETTS LINE.

Still first, as long and long ago, Let Ma.s.sachusetts muster: Give her the post right next the foe; Be sure that you may trust her.

She was the first to give her blood For Freedom and for Honor; She trod her soil to crimson mud: G.o.d's blessing be upon her!

She never faltered for the right, Nor ever will hereafter: Fling up her name with all your might; Shake roof-tree and shake rafter.

But of old deeds she need not brag,-- How she broke sword and fetter: Fling out again the old striped Flag; She'll do yet more and better.

In peace, her sails fleck all the seas; Her mills shake every river; And where are scenes so fair as these G.o.d and her true hands give her?

In war, her claim who seek to rob?

All others come in later: It is hers first to front the Mob, The Tyrant, and the Traitor.

G.o.d bless, G.o.d bless, the glorious State!

Let her have way to battle!

She'll go where batteries crash with fate, Or where thick rifles rattle.