The Emigrant Part 3

He lives--the Roman traitor dared to die!

Yet, in their different fates, behold the homily.

LVIII.

Rome, torn by civil feuds and anarchy, Could not endure a traitor on her heart-- For ready Faction, with her argus eye, Was ever watchful when to play her part; And Freedom, with a nightmare on her breast, But show'd she liv'd by groaning when opprest; And even Cato's energy to save, Preserved her, but awhile, to sink upon her grave.

LIX.

Far different with our Country! mark the time When she threw off her trans-atlantic yoke-- Throughout the wide domain of her fair clime, But one high soldier from his promise broke: In that free gathering who would not enroll With all the patriot's willingness of soul?

Our fathers fought for sacred home and hearth!

And were too young in crime to think of treason's birth.

LX.

And when the war had pa.s.sed, and Freedom raised Her temple to her worshippers, to bless Those who had lit her altar fires, that blazed To light the far untrodden wilderness, All felt the worship, all confessed the G.o.d, All knew the tyrant, and all curs'd his rod-- And if one heart fell from his promise then, Why, he might live like Cain, scorned of his fellow men.

LXI.

The Cain of Nations! be that sov'reignty, That shall, for any purpose, seek to sever The glorious union of the brave and free-- That, but for treason, will endure forever!

Her curse shall be the base redeemless lot Of the once free, who feel that they are not-- Who tread their native soil as native slaves, And build their bondage house on their free fathers' graves.

LXII.

In such a state, would not a Caesar rise, And chain the nation to his gory car, And pluck from out the blue of our bright skies, To form his diadem, that falling star?

Then, one by one, each brilliant light would fall, And primal chaos desolate them all-- While Tyranny, with loud prophetic shout, Would wave his b.l.o.o.d.y sword, as each and all went out!

LXIII.

That free born spirit who could rouse again?

The dried-up fountain and the scorched up field.

The breath, that withers mountain, flood, and plain, To Nature's revolution learn to yield: As strong as ever, man may tread the soil, And sweat for others at his daily toil-- But how shall he regain the gift unbought, The privilege to act the high resolve of thought?

LXIV.

Say, how shall he regain it, when 'twas giv'n With broken vow, apostatizing breath?

How stand erect, how look to the bright Heav'n, Cloth'd in the darkness of that moral death?

Her rights down trod, her star-lit banner rent, O! where could Freedom find an armament?

How gather, in their glory and their pride, Her own grey father-band, who, for her, n.o.bly died.

LXV.

United hearts have made united States!

What could a single, separate State have done Without the arms of her confederates?

Without their glorious leader, WASHINGTON!

They stand united, but divided fall-- 'Twas union that gave liberty to all!

Then, who would call mad Discord from her cell, To scatter poisons there where the world's manna fell!

LXVI.

Proud Venice, by her Doge's solemn rite, Was wedded to the wave o'er which she rose: Thence came her lions' all-surpa.s.sing might-- A greatness that 'twas glory to oppose.

A peaceful pomp proclaimed her nuptial bands: Our Country's bond of States, and hearts and hands, Was signed and sealed before a world amazed, While, for her nuptial torch, red Battle's bacon blaz'd!

LXVII.

It was a b.l.o.o.d.y sacrament: Death came Unto the bridal, like a bidden guest, The Priestess, FREEDOM, had but bless'd the flame, E'er the fierce furies to the revel press'd: The storm grew dark--its lightning flash'd afar-- Murder and Rapine leagu'd themselves with War; Yet, proudly and triumphantly, on high, That eagle-guarded banner waved to victory.

LXVIII.

How fiercely flew that eagle o'er the plain!

Then, Albion, sunk thy lion's lordly crest; Behold! again he shakes his brist'ling mane-- There is a serpent in that eagle's nest, Seeking to sting her, in the feint to help, And give her free brood to the lion's whelp-- She strikes the reptile, headless down to earth-- And thus may Treason die, let who will give it birth!

LXIX.

Last of the Signers! a good night to thee!

Alas! that such brave spirits must depart: Peace to thy ashes--to thy memory A monument in every living heart.

It gives the spirit strength, endurance, pride, A lofty purpose, unto thine allied, To muse upon thy glory--'tis to stand, As 'twere, upon thy hearth, and hold thee by the hand.

LXX.

And hear thee tell of thy ill.u.s.trious peers Who stood beside thee, for our country, there, Fearless, amidst a host of pressing fears, And calm, where even Courage might despair.

Ye staked, with this high energy indued, "Life, Fortune, Honor," for the public good, And made your "Declaration" to the world, And, to the tyrant's teeth, defiance sternly hurl'd.

LXXI.

Alas! the omen--in this awful hour, While Discord and Disunion rend the land!

Did'st thou take with thee Freedom's priceless dower?

Did'st thou resume the gift of thine own hand, And bear the affrighted G.o.ddess to the skies?

Are there no mourners o'er thy obsequies?

None, who, with high resolves, approach thy grave?

Or--flits a spirit there, that frights the modern brave?

LXXII.

Say, has our Capital no tarpeian height[8]

From which to hurl the traitor? Standing now, Where once he stood, in patriotic might, With the fresh laurel wreath upon his brow, And Freedom burning on his lip of flame; Does Pity plead forgiveness for his shame?

Then bear him thence, like Manlius, and be just-- Or go to Vernon's shade, and desecrate its dust.

LXXIII.

Soon must I mingle in the wordy war, Where Knavery takes in vice her sly degrees, As slip, away, not guilty, from the bar, Counsel, or client, as their Honors please.

To breathe, in crowded courts, a pois'nous breath-- To plead for life--to justify a death-- To wrangle, jar, to twist, to twirl, to toil,-- This is the lawyer's life--a heart-consuming moil.

LXXIV.

And yet it has its honors; high of name And pure of heart, and eloquent of tongue, Have kindled, there, with a most holy flame, While thousands on their glowing accents hung!

And be it mine to follow where they've led, To praise, if not to imitate, the dead-- To hail their l.u.s.tre, like the distant star Which the sad wayworn bless, and follow from afar.

LXXV.

My friends! how often, in our social talk, Have we called up these names of spell-like power, As, arm in arm, we took the friendly walk, Or lingered out the evening's parting hour-- Or met at the debate, with joyous zest, To test our strength, and each to do his best; While pun and prank we gaily gave and took, With friendship in each heart and pleasure in each look.

LXXVI.

I recollect it well, and lov'd the time, When we were wont to meet: when last we met, I parted from you for this western clime, With the deep feeling never to forget.

In the quick bustle of the busy throng, I feel that I shall miss ye, O! how long!

The generous hearts who mann'd my spirit on-- Who sooth'd me when I lost, and cheer'd me if I won.[9]

LXXVII.

Away! why should I muse in unsooth'd sadness!

While the gay sky is smiling upon earth, Like a young mother, o'er her infant's gladness, Blessing the early promise of its birth.

The opening day-dawn breaks along the land, Like glorious FREEDOM, as her hopes expand; While the far mountains tower to meet the glow, The altar fires are lit, burning on all below.

LXXVIII.

Oh! light up every land, till, far and free, Their brave hearts come from mountain and from plain, While, with the shout of onward liberty, Old Earth to her foundation shakes again.

The night is gone!--thus Tyranny recedes!-- The sky is cloudless!--FREEDOM!--like thy deeds: A gladness beams o'er earth, and main, and Heav'n-- Thus look the nations up, their chains, their chains are riv'n.

LXXIX.

Kingdoms are falling! thrones--that have withstood The earthquake and the tempest in their shock, And brav'd the host of battle's fiery flood, Making of human rights the merest mock,[10]