Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1861-06-28
SONG OF THE FORGE.

with Schller's famous " Song of the Bell" it
mains unsurpassed Many years ago it W.
the rounds of the papers, starting, we belle
from Blackwooas Magaztne. Itthen took L
Van Wrinkles nap, preserved, however, in
admiring memories of the discriminating, t
after circumnaygating the globe, it lately
appeared in the Calcutta Magazine, whence
was copied as original by some American jol
nails of more taste than reading. We reprint
to preserve it in our pages, Z" for the long day
as we hope. Observe, and admire, too, the ms
terly variation Of the tone, in the genial desert
tion of the future course Of the food-glvng plo
In the dream of the mysterious wanderings
the anchors chain, and in the soul-stirring q
ticpations of tho flashing Of the sioord--Ni
FORK Mirror.
Clang, clang the massive anyils ring
Clang, clang hundred hammers swing
Like the thunder-rattle of a tropic sky,
The mighty blows still multiply:
Clang, clang
Say, brothers of the dusky brow,
What are your strong arms forging now
Clang, clang-we forge the coulter now
The coulter of the kindly plow;
Sweet Mary, mother, bless our toll;
May its broad furrow still unbind
To genial rains, to sun and wind,
The most benignant soil.
Clang, clang-our coulter's course shall DO
On many a sweet and sheltered lea,
BY many a streamlet's silver tide,
Amidst the song of the morning birds,
Amidst the loo Of the sauntering herds
Amidst soft breezes which do stray
Through woodbine hedges and sweet May
Along the green hills side.
When regal autumn's bounteous hand
With wide spread glory clothes the land;
When TO the valleys, from the brow
ofeach resplendent slope, is rolled
A ruddy sea of living gold,
We bless--wo bless the PLow.
Clang, clang-again, my mates, what glows
Beneath the hammers potent blows
Clink, cink--we forge the GIANT CHAIN
Which bears the gallant vessels strain,
Midst stormy winds and adverse tides;
Secured by this, the good ship braves
The rocky roadstead, and the waves
Which thunder on her sides.
Anxious no more, the merchant secs
The mist drive dark before the breeze,
The storm-cloud on the hill;
Calmly he rests, though far away
In boisterons climes his vessel lay,
Reliant on our skill.
Say, on what sand these links shall sleep,
Fathems beneath the solemn deep?
BY Afric's pestilential shore
BY many an iceberg, lone and hoar-
BY many palmy western isle
Basking in springs perpetual smile
BY stormy Labradori
Say, shall they feel the vessel reel,
When to the battery's deadly peal
The crushing broadsdc makes reply
Or else, as at the glorious Nile,
Hold graphing ships, that strive tho while
For death or victory.
Hurrah Cling-olang once more, what glows,
Dark brothers of the forge, beneath
The iron tempest of your blows,
The furnaces red breathe
Clang, clang-a burning torrent, clear
And brilliant, of bright sparks, is poured
Around and up in the dusky air,
AS our hammers forge the SWORD.
The sword IA name Of dread; yet when
Upon the freeman's thigh it's bound,
While for his altar and his hearth,
While for the land that gave him BIRTH
The war-drums roll, the trumpets sound.
How sacred is it then
Whenever for the truth and right
1t flashes in the van of fight;
Whether in some wild mountain pass
AS that where fell Leonidas;
Or on some sterile plain and stern,
A Marston or a Bannockburn;
Or mid fierce crags and bursting rills,
The switzers' Alps, gray TyroIs hills;
Or, as when sunk the Armada's pride,
1t CLEANS above the stormy tide;
Still, still, whene'er the battle ,cord
Is LibeYty-tohen men do stand
For justice aud their natire land
Then Heaven bless the SWORD.