The native American. [volume] (Washington City [i.e. Washington, D.C.]) 1837-1840, 1837-12-16

7 lhereS nothing IN tins time oil flowers 4f sftN
That has voice for me- ;ts8 a4
The whispering leaves, the sunny hours, ss
The bright, the glad, the free!
There's nothing but thy own deep love, Y
And that will live on high! .f.'tss
Then, mother! when my hearts above. s
Kind mother, let me die
The subjoined highly complimentary reference
to Mr.. ]. G. WHITTIER, both poet and gene
raj author--and we have no scrnples but he merits
every ,cord-are inserted from the Knickerbocker.
This is an able and well-wrought picture Of
the means too often resored to in order to extort
from the poor man his last penny, by consign-
ing him to an abode Of wretchedness and degra-
tion-notwithstandng, however, be the effect
ever so destroying to all the means he may possess
of liquidating the claim, and procuring sustenance
for his family.
/ There has been much written and said on this
subject-and there is room for far more, (especi-
ally when handled by such apen as Whittier's, -
but, we must say, much more would it condnce
to the cause Of humanity and of good government
were it universally taken up by the Legislatures
of our respective States, and in their wisdom
and love for promoting the happiness of their fell
low men, acholly abolish this odious system;
and then the merits or dement's of this law, as
now in force, may perhaps be more perceptible
J. G. WHIrTiER-No yonng writer in America has
produced true poetry than the gentleman with whose
name we have commenced this paragraph. He has en-
riched our literature with numerous fine compositions in
prose also, well verse; and his is sufficiently
loud to be heard by the humber classes which is more
than can be said of seadverising bardngs of the
day. who force themselves into temporary fashion, but not
into fame The reason we apprehend, why Mr. Whit
tier is not more frequently brought forward as prominent
American poet is that his modesty equal to his merit
and the world meets nobody half way II irks us more
than we can express to crude disjointed rhymes
flcha piece meal perchance from by.gone or popular
modern authorsforced into transient noforety by friend
presses while such express and admirable noerv 40
the following IS suffered to occupy quiet place in the
back ground:
THE PRISONER FOR DEBT.
LOOK him-through his dungeon crate.
s Feeby and cold, the morning light
Comes stealing round him, dim and late ,si t
As ifi loathed the sight;
Reclining on his strawy bed,
His hand upholds his dropping head
His boodless cheek is scanned and hard
Unshorn his gray neglected beard;
And DER his bony fingers flow ss.S
His long dshevelled locks Of snow,
No grateful fire before him CLOVIS.
And yet the winters breath is chill 7s ts&
And DER his half-clad person goes
The frequent ague thrill!
Silent-save and anon
sound, half murmur and groan aa
Forces apart the painful grip
Of the old sufferers bearded lin:
0 sad and crushing is the fate
Vi old age chained and desolate!
Just God! why lies that old man there ft
murderer shares his prison bed.
Whose eyeballs, through his horrid hair.
Clean on him fierce and red:
And the rude oath and heartless ieer
Fall ever on his loathing car,
And, or in wakefulness or sleep
Nerve, flesh and fibre thrill and Green
Wheneer that rlffian's tossing limb
Crimson with murder, touches him! Ft
What has the gray haired prisoner done,
Has murder stained his hands with eore,
Not so his crimes fouler one:
GOD MADE THE OLD MAN pooRi
For this he shares feIon's cell
The fttest earthly type of He'll!
For this-the boon for which he ponred
His young blood on the invaders sword
And counted light the fearful cost
His blood gained LIBERTY is losfI @,t.t
And so, for such place Of rest
Old prisoner poured thy blood as rain
TN COncord's field and Bunker,s crest
And Saratoga's plain!
Look forth, thou man of many scars u
Through thy dim dungeons iron bars
- muSs Ue Joy, III SOOln, 10 II y
Yon monuments upreared to thee
Piled granite and prison cell
The land repays thy service well. ''a9l
Go, ring the BELLS and fire the guns.
And fling the starry banner out:
Shout Freedom! till your lispinr ones
Give back their cradle shout: .aH
Let boosted eoqnence dcclain
OF honor, liberty, and fame;
Still lei the poets strain be heard
With glory for each second word.
And every thing with breath agree
To praise our glorious lberty!'
But when the patriot cannon lars
That PRISONS cold and gloomy wall
And through its CRATES the stripes and STARE
Rise on the wind and fa-ra
Think We that prisoners aged ear
keloices in the general cheer!
Think we his dim and failing eve
is kindled at your pageantry! 8 Ea /,
SoTowing of soul and chained of limb
What is your carnival to him? IL
Down with the LAW that binds him Tins,
Unworthy freemen, let it find ~
NO refuge from the whitening curse
Of God and human kind
Open the prisoners living tomb
And usher from its broodng gloom Ia
The victims of your savage code liz
10 the free sun and air Of God III
NO longer dare as crime 10 brand n
Inc Christening ofthe Almghty's hand.
q Del. TT. Il