New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1847-01-13
RANDOLPH OF RoANoKE
PY JOHN C. WHITTIER.


on. Mother Earth upon thy lap
Thy weary ones receiving,
And er them. silent as a dream,
Thy grassy mantle weaving
Fold softly Ia thy long embrace
That heart so worn and broken,
And cool its pulse OF fire beneath
Thy shadows old and oaken.
Shut out from him the bitter word
And serpent hiss of scorning;
Nor let the storms of yesterday
Disturb his quiet morning
Breathe over him forgettulness
OF all save deeds OF kindness,
And. save 10 smiles of grateful eyes,
Press down his lids in blindness
There, where with living ear and eye
He heard Potomac's flowing.
And. through his tall ancestral trees
Saw Autumn sunset glowing
He sleeps-still looking to the West
Beneath the dark wood shadow,
As if he still would see the sun
Sink down on wave and meadow.
Bard, Sage, and Tribune in himself
All moods Of mind contrasting
The tenderes. wall OF human wo
The scorn like lightning blasting
The pathos which from nyal eyes
Unwilling tears could summon
The singing taunt the fiery burst
OF hatred scarcely human
Mirth, sparkling like diamond, showed,
From lips OF life long sadness,
Clear picturings OF majestic thought
Upon a ground Of madness
And over all Romance aud Song
4 classic beauty throwing
And lanreled Clio at his side
Her storied pages showing.
All parties feared him each in turn
Beheld its schemes disiointsd
As right or left his fatal glance
And spectral finger pointed.
Sworn toe Of Cant, he smote II down
With trenchant wit uusparing,
And. mocking, rent with ruthless hand
The robe Pretence was wearing.
Too honest or too proud 10 leign
A love he never cherished,
Beyond Nirginas border line
His patriotism persisted
While others hailed IN distant skies
oar Eagles dusky pInion,
He only saw the mountain bird
SIoop DER his Old Dominion
Still through each change Of fortune strans
Racked nerve. and brain all burning,
His loving faith in motherland
Knew never shade of turning
By Bntain's lakes by Nevas wave,
Whatever sky was o or him,
1 4
Her blue peaks rose before him.
He held his slaves yet made wlthsl
No false aBd vain pretences
Nor paid a lying priest to seek
For scriptural deienccs.
His harshest words OF proud rebuke,
HIS bitterest tsunt and scorning,
Fell Gre-hke On the Northern brow
That bent to him ia iswning.
He held his slaves yet kept the while
His reverence Tor the Human
la the darn vassals ct his will
He saw but Man and Woman
No hunter Of Gods outraged poor
His Roanoke valley entered
No trader In the souls OF men
Across his threshold ventured
And when the old and weared man
Laid down cor his last sleeping
And at his side a slave no more.
His brother man stood weeping.
His latest thought. his latest breath.
To Freedoms duty giving
With falling tongue and trembling hand
The dying blest the living
oh never bore hi. ancient State
truer son or bravcrl
None trampling with a cslmer scoru
On foreign hate or favor
He knew her faults. vet never stopped
His proud and manly feeling
To poor excuses ot the wrong
OF meanness of coucesliug
Bat none behelj with clearer eve
The plague spot o or her spreading.
None heard more sure the steps OF Doom
Along her future trcsdng
For her as tor himself he spake.
When. his gaunt frame upbrscing.
He traced with diving hand HFsoRsf
And persisted in the tracing
A from the grave where Henry sleeps
From venons weeping willow,
Aud from the Erassy pail which hides
The sage II Monticello
co fr,uo the leaf .trvwu burialston
OF Rsndolphs lowly dwelling.
Virginia o % thy land Of slaves
warning vuice IL swelling
And harh frum thy deserted field.
Are sadjer warnings spoken. lso
From queuch'd hearths. where thy exil
Their household gods have broken.
The Curse 10 on thee-volves for men
And briars for corn .sheaves giving
Oh mere than ell thy dead renowr
Were now one herr living
.nacirh had hearty hatred 81 ,l.v, trader, a
AID trsstsd some II them quite roughly uho "
~ cheaper HE ehsttpls personal
- M remsfsasss sfsser,eri Of Dr.. Perish. \
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