New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1848-04-08


20 cory red Alas. thy light had neer
shope In upon the chaos of their lair
Thsy reared to thee such symbol a. they knew,
And worsbiped it with fame and blood
A vengeance, Ak in band that stood
Holding tyrant's head up by the clothed hair.
What wrongs tn 0ppressor suffered, these we know
These have found pi'eous voice in song and prose
pot 6,r III Oppressed their darkness and their woe.
Their grinding centuries, what muse had those 7
Though ball and palace had nor eyes nor ears,
Hardening peoples heart to aenseless stone,
rhoo NEWEST them o Earth. that drank their tears
n Heaven. that heard heir iparticulate moan
They noted down their letters, link by link.
Cosrse Vas the hand that scrawled it, red the ink
Ruds was their score, as suits unlettered men,
Matched With 4 headsmsn's az upon block
What marvel it. when came the avenging shock,
Twas Att, not Urania, held the penl
With eye aversed and an anguished frown lstrite,
Loatbipgly glides the muse through scenes OF
\ Where like the heart Of vengeace, up and down,
Tbrobs In its frame work the blood muf1ed knife
Slow are the steps Of Freedom, but her feet
y Turn never backward hers no bloody glare;
Her light is calm. and innocent, and sweet,
And where her light comes, there il no despair
Not aYt on palace and cathedralspre,
Quivers and CLEANS that unconsuming fire.
While these stand black against her mourning
The peasant sees 1t leap from peak to peak skies,
Along bis hills; the craftsmans burning eyes
OEa with cool tears its influence mother. meek;
Flights the poets heart up like star
All while the tyrant deemed it still afar
And twined with golden threads his futile snare,
That swift, convicting glow all round him ran,
Twas close beside him there,
Blazing for ever in the soul of man.
o, Broker King, 10 this thy VISIONS fruit
A dynasty pucked out as 'twere weed
Grown rsDkly in q night, that leaves no seed
Could eighteen years strike down ne deeper root
Butnov thy valture eye was turned on Spain
shout from Paris, and thy crown falls of,
Thy race has ceased to reign,
And thou become fugitive and scott:
Slippery the feet that mount by stairs OF gold,
And weakest OF all fences one OF steel;
Go and keep school again like him OF old,
The Syracusian tyrant, thou may'st feel
Royal amid birch swayed Commonweall
vi.
Not long can he be ruler who allows
His time to run before him. thou vast naught
Soon ~ the strip Of gold about thy brows
Was no more emblem Of the Peoples thought
Vain were thy bayonets against the foe
Thou hadst to cope with thou didst wage
War. not with Frenchmen merely--no
Thy strife was with the Spirit Of the Age,
The invisible Spirit whose first breath divine
Scattered thy frail endeavor, thine
And, like poor last years leaves, whired thee and
Into the Dark forever
Is here no triumph Nay, what though
The yellow blood Of Trade meanwhile should pour
Along its arteries shrunken flow,
And tn idle canvas droop around the shorel
These do not make State
Nor keep it great.
think God made
' The Earth for man, not trade,
And, where each humblest human creature
Can stand, no more suspicious nor afraid
Great and kingly in his right of nature.
To Heaven and Earth knit with harmonious ties,
Where behold the exulta.ion
OF Manhood glowing In those eyes
That had been dark for ages,
Or only liz with bestial loves and RACES,
There behold Nation
The France which lies
Between the Pyrenees and Rhine.
10 the least part Of France;
j see 1t rather in the soul whose shine
Barns through the craftman's grimy oountenance,
In the new energy divine
OF Tolls enfranchised glance.
VIII.
And IL it be dream,
II the great Future be the little Past asst
Meath new mask. which drops aud shows at
The same weird mocking face to balk and blast
And the Tyrtesn harp
Loves notes more resolute and sharp
Throbbings a. throbs the bosom, hot and fast
Such visions are Of morning.
Theirs 10 no vague forewarning,
The dreams which nations dream come true
And shape the world anew;
II this be sleep,
Make IL long, make It deep,
o Father. who sendest the harvesn men reap
While labor so seepeth
His sorrow 10 gone,
No longer he weepeth,
But sm.eth and steepetb
His thoughts in the dawn;
He heareth Hope yonder
Rain. lark like. he fancies,
His dreaming hands wander
Mid hsartsease and pansies;
ITS dream It's visionl'
6hrieks Mammon sghast
The days broad derision
Will chase It at last;
Ys are mad ye have taken
A laundering krskcn
For firm land Of the Past
Ali IL he awaken,
God shield % oil then,
If this dream rudely shaken
Shall cheat him again
Since frat heard our Northwind blow,
Since first saw Atlantic throw
On our fierce rocks his Humorous snow,
Ilovod thee. Freedom a. boy
The rattle Of thy shield at Marathon
Did with q Grecian Joy
Through all my pulses run;
But have learned TO love thee nov
Without tho helm upon thy cleaning brow,
A maiden mild and undecided
Like her who bore the worlds redeening Child /;
And surely never did thy atars glance
With purer fires than now In France;
While. In their bright white 6ashes,
Wrongs shadow, backward cast.
Waves covering Der the ashes
OF the dead, blaspheming Past,
Der the shapes Of fallen giants,
His own unbuied brood.
Whose dead hands clench defiance
AT the overpowering good:
And down the happy Future rams q Good
OfProphesying light;
L shows an Earth no longer stained with blood,
Blossom and fruit where nov ve a. sbs bud
OF Brotherhood and hight.