Share:
  Guess poet | Poets | Poets timeline | Isles | Contacts

John Greenleaf Whittier - Abolition Of Slavery In The District Of Columbia, 1862John Greenleaf Whittier - Abolition Of Slavery In The District Of Columbia, 1862
Work rating: Low


When first I saw our banner wave     Above the nation`s council-hall,     I heard beneath its marble wall     The clanking fetters of the slave!     In the foul market-place I stood,     And saw the Christian mother sold,     And childhood with its locks of gold,     Blue-eyed and fair with Saxon blood.     I shut my eyes, I held my breath,     And, smothering down the wrath and shame     That set my Northern blood aflame,     Stood silent, where to speak was death.     Beside me gloomed the prison-cell     Where wasted one in slow decline     For uttering simple words of mine,     And loving freedom all too well.     The flag that floated from the dome     Flapped menace in the morning air;     I stood a perilled stranger where     The human broker made his home.     For crime was virtue: Gown and Sword     And Law their threefold sanction gave,     And to the quarry of the slave     Went hawking with our symbol-bird.     On the oppressor`s side was power;     And yet I knew that every wrong,     However old, however strong,     But waited God`s avenging hour.     I knew that truth would crush the lie,     Somehow, some time, the end would be;     Yet scarcely dared I hope to see     The triumph with my mortal eye.     But now I see it! In the sun     A free flag floats from yonder dome,     And at the nation`s hearth and home     The justice long delayed is done.     Not as we hoped, in calm of prayer,     The message of deliverance comes,     But heralded by roll of drums     On waves of battle-troubled air!     Midst sounds that madden and appall,     The song that Bethlehem`s shepherds knew !     The harp of David melting through     The demon-agonies of Saul!     Not as we hoped; but what are we?     Above our broken dreams and plans     God lays, with wiser hand than man`s,     The corner-stones of liberty.     I cavil not with Him: the voice     That freedom`s blessed gospel tells     Is sweet to me as silver bells,     Rejoicing! yea, I will rejoice!     Dear friends still toiling in the sun;     Ye dearer ones who, gone before,     Are watching from the eternal shore     The slow work by your hands begun,     Rejoice with me! The chastening rod     Blossoms with love; the furnace heat     Grows cool beneath His blessed feet     Whose form is as the Son of God!     Rejoice! Our Marah`s bitter springs     Are sweetened; on our ground of grief     Rise day by day in strong relief     The prophecies of better things.     Rejoice in hope! The day and night     Are one with God, and one with them     Who see by faith the cloudy hem     Of Judgment fringed with Mercy`s light
Source

The script ran 0.001 seconds.