The weekly Butte record., 1861-07-13
POEM
BY II. B. GARNHAM.

| Lashed into seryltude the timOrous hope
| To retrocess still deeper in anarchic night.
Thus ebb'd and flowed for centuries the tide,
Till chastened and annealed, the soul
Enfranchised ripened for its goal.
| And now the ebb re-actng starts the flow:
Landmarks the barriers rear'd by selfish pride,
And naughty power melt, involving in their vortex
Oppressors. their institutes and instruments
Resistless beams the pure actinic ray
Which the arch-chemists have evolved
1t Observation-Disclosures. ens.-InextinguishabIe
In its immortal brilliance no
Promethean felony reft it
From the stars.-Inborn, smouldering or waxing
Quickened or depressed tis there
Still vindcating its divinity
migrating on from age to age-its motto
Still excelsior-results from conquered Science
Maxims of State-craft polity and Right
Shaping dim ideals into actual powers.
lnyinciblc the lofty principle moves
On to its august fruition.
Then rung the fiat forth that out of darkness
Erst created light and chaos order
The elements combine. A thousand subtle hands
Craftsmen of State, spring to the noble task;
Ten thousand hearts, bleeding sacrafce
Offer their votive tributes, and from
! Deep foundation-pile to dome there is
No single stone whose cement is not formed
And halowed by martyrs blood
Thus rose the Temple. Starr'd
With name of Saint and Hero-crownd with
Nobest intellect-the consummation of the
Loftest dreams heir of the ages
The crowning glory of all time.
Thus rose and thus hath stood unscathcd
By tn abrading elements of
Hostile Powers and domestic strife,
The shrine of our hearts deity.
What memories cluster round the heart to-day
Our nations natal day. What grand associations,
Richly freighted thoughts to what pitch
OF earthly power and unmatched grandeur
Have we grown
Foremost in the caravan Of nations,
The desert strewn with wrecks of Empires,
Has been to perpetual oasis.
EDWARDS and upwards. still entering
New cycles of progression.
And have discordant notes crept in
To mar this sweetest music? ? alas
Back glorious thoughts back, clustering
Memories, and thou exultant flesh
Thy nature change to that of shame,
Bare heads for your covering of ashes.
The vail is rent no. no, not rent,
seam the eddyng winds of Passion made;
hasty gust sped of Southern breeze
They cannot rend it. The guardian priests
OF that great Temple viii fall a bloody
Sacraice before her altar, ere
A desecrating touch shall mar its
Awful sanctity.
But wrongs must be redress'd. The covenant
Must be no plastic thing which every
Crocheteen can mould to suit his humor,
And thus direct those impulses which
Ever go beyond the goal assigned
To eliminate in peril. The great
Heart of Humanity is too solemn
An instrument for every morbid
Trher to finger
Nations have their Nemeses. Extremes
OF Civilization bring refinement
Incompatible with manly virtue.
Glowing Imagination supersedes
Bold Reason. The cerebral play
Is morbid and that which in due measure
Is healthful, in excess becomes
Source of awful peril.
Such is the noble impulse which proclaim
Eternal enmity 'gainst human bondage.
And he who had seen what have seen,
When from the horrors of the - middle
Passage the Captive Crew had found
The refuge placed by England's grand phiantro
ply
When formed in dusky line
The train pass'd by their shrunken features
Blanche to deadly palor- faint outlines
Of humanity, Manhood, Youth and Age;
Babes, gaunt efIges clnging to breasts
No longer yielding Milk but Blood;
Yet still HIS workmanship, tho cut
In ebony-would do as | did
Then-spurn thy colder ray philosophy
| To greet the burning impulse of the hour.
Yet still obtains the compeDsating law,
Sunk in the pleasures Of sensuous joy
Of coarser mould, less keen becomes
The sense of pain than that which waits
On higher olgauisms-he cannot
Guess the meaning of the word whose
Sacred import made of Tell a marksman
And of Washington hero.
If never erect in Heavens broad light he,
In Godlike consciousness of Pride and strength
stands,
Still is he spared that restless agony
Which waits on intellectual power.
Prometheus too has worn his chains
For all these ages, and still the yulture
Preys upon his yitals.
+ This is the seed whose baneful fruit
Has borne crop OF ashes.
/ This the fiend OF Discord which It's thine
August Philosophy to exercise.
Crisis may come of growth-of infancy
Of manhood-such entails wait on
/ Struggles for perfection-and Sciolists
! Will vaunt their vain solutions
And Empires of State prescribe
/ Their nostrums: But never
While Virtue yet asserts her sway
/ Untrsmmell'd d DER the hearts of freeborn,
Never of decadenee. God grant
While counsels are rent and Statesmen
Pass away, the electric cloud
Which oyerhanys to day,
Impending Desolation. War and Death,
Z NJ e-d eor,a EraoEIi,, With r,ac4ar