Monmouth weekly herald. [volume] (Freehold, N.J.) 1854-1860, 1858-08-26
For the Monmouth Weekly Herald.
Patrick Henry.
BY N WARD.

BY HENRY WARD.
It was o day of trial fierce and strong.
When War and peril wildly swept along;
And this fair Land, where freedom held her sway,
Was swathed in sackcloth, filed with sad dismay;
Yet there were those, the true of heart and soul,
Who scorned a foreign tyrants base control,
And hurled defiance at their ruthless foes,
Sworn to be free, or else in death repose.
And now they met, with dauntless souls and high,
Faith in each heart, and lightning in each eyei
And in the God of battles was their trust,
Who aids the weak, and hurls the proud to dust.
They met in solemn council to debate
Their ~eountry's freedom, or impending fate.
Then with majestic and undaunted mein,
As some tall mountain cliff on high is seen
To raise its head amid a darkening cloud,
Where Lis innings flash and thunders echo loud,
Rose Henry, matches in that eloquence,
Which moves a nation in its own defence:
His words were words of fire, that lived and burned
And every coward r~ecreant's scheme o'erturned,
Made. brave men drawer still, confirmed the weak,
And caused the timid fields of strife to seek,
And thus he spake: 40 Freemen It's confessed,
Mans nature gives indulgence in his breast,
To vain, delusive Hope: we close our eyes
Against a truth that pains US with surprise
And listen to the syren's song of peace,
Till all the noble powers of manhood cease,
And we become transformed to beasts that go
Swift to the slaughter, reckless why tbs so.
Is this the part of men, who would be wise,
And strive for Liberty, that glorious prize2
Are we of those, who having eyes, are blind,
-. 80 L. AL.A LII
Our hearts, and souls, and energies, to wake,
And from our limbs the tyrant's letters shake 7.
But as for me, whatever pain and ruth
Cypress my soul, 1 long to know the truth
And all the truth, I yearn the worst to know,
And be prepared against tn invading foe;
One lamp alone have l to guide my feet,
And that is past experience is it meet
To Judge the future save by what is past
How long shall this inglorious slumber last2
For ten long years, what have those courtiers done,
That futter round the British monarch's throne;
To justify your hopes or queu your fears?
When your petition reached the royal ears.
Did that insidious and perverted smile,
Your senses lull, your supine souls beguilel
Trust not its blandness, it will prove a snare
To lure your feet to dungeons of despair;
Scorn the betrayal of a treacherous kiss.
What is their friendship in a time like this1
Ask now yourselves, ye who have erst believed,
Your humble prayer was graciously received.
What mean those warlike ornaments that stain
With darkness both Columbia's land and main2
Are hostile fleets and g~littering bayonets fit
To win our love and make our souls submit
Have We displayed so much of hardened pride,
That force must win our love, and naught beside
Be not deceived: Those implements they bring
For war and subjugation to their king
The last, the only reasons tyrants urge,
To crush fair Freedom meath Expressions surge.
1 ask you, freemen, in the light of day,
What Dleans this martial pomp, this proud array,
Unless it be to cast US Town as slaves,
Or hurl us hsadlong to our blood-stained graves?
Can you, my countrymen, the cause divine,
Or any other motive here assign2
Hath Britain any other foe beside.
In all this region stretching far and wide,
To call her giant navies on the deep,
And mighty legions DER our land to swept
No; she hath none for us, for us alone,
They come to crush US meath a tyrant's throne:
ahey come to rivet on our limbs those chains,
mich British ministers, with hellish pains,
So long have forged. What now can we oppose4
Will argument avail against our foes?
For ten long years we've tried it all in vain,
And what have we, by base delay to gaina
Is this a time to bend the s~uppliant knee,
When God who made US wills US to be free?
Long have we striven to avert the storm,
Besieged the throne with loyal hearts and warm
But our petitions have been spurned away,
And what have we to hope from vain delay?
Insulting m~ockery, scorn and foul disdain,
Are all that now for US on earth remain:
Would we be free-for liberty and right,
To arms! to arms brave freemen we must fight!
Yea. I repeat il, We must fight! our trust
Is in that God who knows our cause is just.
Say not we're weak in God our arms are strong;
Wait not till all that mercenary throng
Shall fire your dwellings, lead your sons in chains,
And naught but vilest slavery remains.
God who presides DER nations is our friend,
He'll fight our battles for us to the end.
Our chains are forged. On Boston's blood-stained
plains,
Their clank is heard, and naught but War remains
And let it come! yea, let it come no more
Cry peace, when peace hath left our shore!
The next wild gale that sweeps on northern wing,
The clash of loud resounding arms will bring!
Our brethren, fly 10 arms! why stand we here?
Is life to us, my countrymen, so dear,
Or peace so sweet, that chains must be the price.
And Slavery bind us in her foul device
Forbid it, 0 Almighty God Supreme;
know not what my fellow-men may deem,
But l will cry ev'n with my latest breath,
20 give me LIBERTY, or give. me DEATH '
LlTcHFIELD, Aug. 16, 1858.
Brilliants.