The voice of freedom. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1839-1848, 1846-09-24
come, / come, oh list to my song,

But little have needed the varied lay
| chaunt for you nightly or carol by day.
From the viewless abyss where my spirit is nursed
In the strength of the mighty my bands BURST
With the fond pride Of power and the madness OF
mirth
To career oerthe seas & lay waste the green earth.
Sometimes go forth in a frolcksome mood, Tgood;
When to witness my pastime would do your heart
Upsetting o'erturning and whisking away,
Whatever meet in my mischievous play
Then away, and away, over mountain and plain,
Hurrah. for wild chaos shall bring up the train;
Oh, It's merry to scatter your trfes about,
And frighten YOU all with the rattle and rout.
IT'S merry to toss the dark waves into foam,
Old Neptune to beard in his cavernous home,
To seize on his tridant and whrl it on high
And mingle the wild heaving main with the sky,
Anon it is mine all your weakness to show,
Your loftiest schemes in the dust to o'erthrow;
To startle proud mortals so vainly secure,
So bold to adventure, so frail to endure.
hic me away to far desert land
Where the pilgrims lone path is wide waste ofsand,
And wrapd in the shrou1 of the deadly Simeon
l chaunt the wild drge of the caravans doom
A bark lies becamed on the motione5s seas,
Her sails idly Tapping awaiting the breeze
l come, and my voice mingles hOarse with the moan
As the bubbles arise where the vessel goes down.
And oh it's sublime from my battements high,
To muster i'll force meath dark Sowing sky;
The clouds for my banner, the tempest my car,
While Heavens artillery makes glorious war!
One blast and the pride of the forest lies low
Proud temples and towers crush'd by blow:
My path strewed with ruins, enter your walls
And the mightiest monument totters and falls.
Hank heard we that shrek, that yell of despair?
Lo wonder brave ship by the red lightnng's glare
Her rigging all tatter'd dismasted and torn,
In black waves engulph'd or on huge pillows borne.
Mid the roar of tie waters my song rises high,
] whistle and shrek, as the scud rushes by;
And drown cen the boom of the last signal gun,
As the gallant ship rolls and sinks heavily down.
But many kindlier deed is mine,
The tendrils | clasp of the clambering vine,
Breathe soft on the bank where wild flowers lie
And WOO the wood-vioet to ope It's blue eye.
I pass DER the islands of spice in their bloom
And watt on my wing their sweetest perfume;
Sweep over the land where pcstilence reigns,
And the purified air brings health to the plains
When Soils fiery car in the heavens rides high,
And the way-larer pants meath the bright burning
With cooling eliXirhis faint heart cheer, sky,
Not the mines of Golconda would purchase too dear.
So in boyhood when bounding o'ermountan & glen,
l coold the hot flush on your feverd brow then
And when on the playground yourmery aughrung,
Re-echoed the shout and the song TINT you sung
And music, to me owes its wild thrilling tone,
Its soul-melting cadence is all my own;
sigh, and the harp with softmolody rings,
tune the sweet chords when the nightingale sings,
The whispering leaves of the forest declare,
Tho viewess the minstre-my presence is there,
And the mur1nuring broOket from me has the song
Ye cherish from childhood a sad life long.
! stole to a cell where a captive lay bound,
Crept in fresh and pure through each crevice around
With tha bro1Ih nf Heaven Ia his
cheek
And bear off the tear Heavens mercy to seek.
I entered a easement where deaths seal was set,
The brow Of the victim with cold dew was wet
Affection was there, the purcst, the best,
And fond love had piow'd his head Oh her breast.
Oh! then there were tears of agony there
Unfolding her pinious, Hope fled from Despair;
And love could but clasp her fra hands to pray,
As she knetby the couch where the strickenone lay.
fan'd his pale cheek,--and play'd on his brow,
Ills burning lip bathed-lent his eye its last glow;
gave the last boon earth to mortals can give
Alas !. It's not mine to bid dying man live.
But bring to the infant his first vital breath,
And the last to revive him when gaspng in death,
In the sunny curls play on youths radiant brow
And the silver locks lift when his gray head lies low.
Oh, ever I'm with you, for veal or for wo,
Whoever thou art, where er thou may'st go,
Der thy cradle, thy coffin, my pinons l wave,
A.l moan in the willow that weeps DER thy grave
blow whore list by Jehovah's command,
Who holdeth the wind in his own right hand;
Nor secrs, nor sages, my hiding place know,
Nor whence is my coming nor whittier 60.
Then list to the song that sing as fly
must speed on the errands of Him the most High,
Till the angel shall stand on the and the Shore
And wait the last fiat that "Time is no more"
AzILE.