The daily Green Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1861-1865, 1863-01-28
The Ghost of John Brown.

AS tke Solemn night came down
On the lone beleagured fortress,
/ On the traitor camp and town.
While through the lurid heavens,
Sped the red-hot shot and SHE'LL
AS if by mad fends driven,
From the open mouths of hell
While the flag of a sovereign nation,
On the patpitating air,
Sdll waved from it's lofty station,
Amid the fiery glare.
And | saw, where fercest, direst,
Ragged the terrible battle-storm
Where the bursting shells fell hottest,
There lowered q spectral form,
knew, by its proud erec,ness,
BY its calm, determined mein,
By the strong arms sternly folded,
And the deep, clear eye Sc enc,
Twas that old man, iron-hearted,
OF the dark and terrible form,
Tha, genius Of retribution,
Old Ossawatamic Brown.
- tbs well, - he murmered softly,
Oh traitorous, coward band.
Ply your engines fiercer, faster.
Gains. the rag Of our native land.
Pour your beautiful hail mo hotly
On the heads OF that gallant few,
Stifed, and faint and famished,
With their Gag OF truce in Wow.
Rear louder, ye murderous cannon
With every echoipg boom,
DER tie hhls of the sturdy Inland,
sWeeNs the story Of sumter's doom,
And l hesr above your thunder,
The shout Of warrior band,
Walked suddenly from slumber.
To strike for their native land.
As the lion Of the desert,
Leaps Aerosly from his laiE,
And ea8es down the distance.
With fixed and dsfy glare;
AS the bolt, along ne storm. :Iou0
Quivcrs in fierce unrest
Ere 1t burst with triple sengs&1oe,
on earth's rent snd quiyering breast;
Fen SO the sons OF Freedom
For one dreadful moment stand,
TIN your mlrdsr0as hand uplifted
Is struck at your native land.
Strike ferccr, faster, murderers
STEPPED to the cose In sin;
See the flag Of your country droopmg-
Aim at IL once again
All Sumter's guns are Voiceless,
And the flames are hot within;
And fain: are her brave defenders
Sim at them once again.
Ia dGstards, eravens, towards,
Re are brave aud knightly men
Your foes disabled, silenced-
Fire on them once again
An mine is the unsealcd vision
Aud mine the prophet ear
Ye may laugh in your mad aerisIon,
sut the day Of doom is near.
New England's hills will echo,
With the warriors battle cry;
And New YOrk's excelsior banner,
Mid shontings, kiss the sky.
FROM She free NOrth's lakes and rivers.
DER ne aiistant prslre's breast;
Prom true-sOuled Pennsylvania,
And ths bold, unfe,tersd West,-
Like the roar OF the mountain torrent.
Like the shrek Of the tempest comes,
God Gtd my Country eoer,--
our kosner a,,9 our homes.
Oh this is the day prayed for,
When 'gainst the wintry sky,
with the rope around my throttle,
Fehung me up 10 die;
The day when my free-born brothers.
In their lofty iaitk will rise,
And wipe from thei: fair escutcheon.
The stain that on it lies
W hen manhood, crushed and blightea,
Trampled, bruised and torn;
And womanhood, dashed, p ollute6. F..
The victim Of lust and scorn
from their fainting spirit lifted
The burden and the blight
May wake from their loathscme serfdom,
Tie reveIin Freedom S light.
My Country! my Country bal
/ have called on thee oft before
Would God that my strong appealing,
Might enter your souls once more.
AS yen valne the boon Of Freedom,
SO fearlessly won for you
Strike home, for your tiresides brayely.
And a whole free country, too.
Let your proud iiag kiss the heavens,
With Reve blst or stain,
O'er bleeding human chattels ,
Never TO lOat again =. ..n aauas