Carroll free press. [volume] (Carrollton [Ohio]) 1834-1861, 1849-04-06

All that would have sought, and ell seek,
Bear, know, feel, and yet breathe-into one VOL
And that one word were LIGHTNING, IwOuld spec
[BYROE.
Away, away through the sightless air
Stretch forth your iron thread;
For would net dim my sandals fair
With the dust ye tamely tread;
Aye, rear il up on its million PiOrs-
Lett reach the world around,
And the journey ye make in hundred years
Ill clear at a single bound!
Tho cannot toll like the groaning slave
Ye have fettered with iron skill,
To ferry you over the bOundless wave,
Or grind in the noisy mill;
Let him sing his giant strength and speed
Why single shaft of mine
Would give that monster fight, indeed,
To the depths Of the ocean brine.
No, no! I'm the spirit of light and love,
To my unseen hand It's given
To pencil the ambient clouds above,
And polish the stars of Heaven.
l scatter the golden rays Of FIRE,
On the horizon far below
And deck the skies where storms expire,
With my red and dazzling glow.
The deepest recesses Of earth ne mine
traverse its silent core;
Around me the starry diamonds shine,
And the sparkling fields of ore;
And oft l leap from my throne on high
To the depth of the oceans caves,
Where the fadeless forests of coral lie,
Far under the world of waves.
My being is like lovely thought
That dwells in SinleSs breast;
A tone of music that neer was caught
A word that was ne'er expressed.
burn in the bright and Furnished halls,
Where the fountains of sunlight play
Where the curtain Of gold and opal falls,
Der the scenes Of the dying day.
With glance cleaVe the sky in twain,
light it with glare,
When fall the bOding drops of rain,
Through the Gsrkly curtained air:
The tocF-built towers, the turrets gray,
The piles of a thousand years,
Have fot the strength OF potter'S clay,
Before my glittering spears.
From the Alps or the Andes highest crag;
From the peaks of eternal snow,
The dazzling folds Of my fiery flag
Clean O'er the world below;
The earthquake heraldS my coming power,
The avalanche bounds away,
And bowling storms, at midnight hour,
Proclaim my kingy sway.
Ye trembls when my legiOnS come
When my quivsring sword leaps out
Der the hills that echo nay thundsr-drum,
And rend with my joyous shout:
Ysquail on the land or upon the seas,
Ye stand in your fear aghast,
To see me burn the stslwart trees,
Or ShiVer the stately mast.
The hieroglyphS on the Persian wall,
The letters of high command.
Where the prophet read the tyrsnt's fall,
Were traced with my burning hand;
And oft in fire have wrote since then,
What angry Heaven decreed-
But the sealed eyes Of sinful men
Were all too blind to read.
At last the hour Of light is here,
And kings no more shall blind,
Nor the bigots crush with craven fear,
The forward march of mind;
The words Of truth and freedoms rays
Are from my PiniOns hurled
And soon the sun of better days
Shall rise upon the world.
But away, away, through the sightless air
Stretch forth your iron thread;
For would not soil my sandals fair
With the dust ye tamOly tread;
Aye, rear it up on its million piers
Let it circle the world around,
And the journey ye make in hundred years
I'll clear at single bound!
Spare minutes are the golden dust Of iii
and Young was writing true, as we'll as 6
king line; when he affirmed that, "Sands mi
the mountain and moments made the year."
all the portions of our life, the spare minuts
the most faithful in good or evil. They