Calais, Is it a reed that's shaken by the wind, August, 1802 Or what is it that ye go forth to see?
Lords, lawyers, statesmen, squires of low degree, Men known, and men unknown, sick, lame, and blind,
Post forward all, like creatures of one kind, With first-fruit offerings crowd to bend the knee In France, before the new-born Majesty. 'Tis ever thus. Ye men of prostrate mind, A seemly reverence may be paid to power; But that's a loyal virtue, never sown
In haste, nor springing with a transient shower: When truth, when sense, when liberty were flown, What hardship had it been to wait an hour? Shame on you, feeble Heads, to slavery prone!
On the Road JONES! as from Calais southward you and I leading to Went pacing side by side, this public Way Ardres Streamed with the pomp of a too-credulous day, Aug. 7, 1802 When faith was pledged to new-born Liberty: A homeless sound of joy was in the sky: From hour to hour the antiquated Earth, Beat like the heart of Man: songs, garlands, mirth, Banners, and happy faces, far and nigh! And now, sole register that these things were, Two solitary greetings have I heard, "Good morrow, Citizen! a hollow word, As if a dead man spake it! Yet despair Touches me not, though pensive as a bird Whose vernal coverts winter hath laid bare.
I GRIEVED for Buonaparté, with a vain The training And an unthinking grief! The tenderest mood of a good Of that Man's mind-what can it be? what food Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could be gain? 'Tis not in battles that from youth we train The Governor who must be wise and good, And temper with the sternness of the brain Thoughts motherly, and meek as womanhood. Wisdom doth live with children round her knees: Books, leisure, perfect freedom, and the talk Man holds with week-day man in the hourly walk Of the mind's business: these are the degrees By which true Sway doth mount; this is the stalk True Power doth grow on; and her rights are these.
FESTIVALS have I seen that were not names : This is young Buonaparte's natal day, And his is henceforth an established sway-- Consul for life. With worship France proclaims Her approbation, and with pomps and games. Heaven grant that other Cities may be gay! Calais is not: and I have bent my way To the sea-coast, noting that each man frames His business as he likes. Far other show My youth here witnessed, in a prouder time; The senselessness of joy was then sublime! Happy is he, who, caring not for Pope, Consul, or King, can sound himself to know The destiny of Man, and live in hope.
On the Ex- ONCE did She hold the gorgeous east in fee; tinction of And was the safeguard of the west: the worth the Venetian Of Venice did not fall below her birth, Republic
1802 Venice, the eldest Child of Liberty.
She was a maiden City, bright and free; No guile seduced, no force could violate; And, when she took unto herself a Mate, She must espouse the everlasting Sea. And what if she had seen those glories fade, Those titles vanish, and that strength decay; Yet shall some tribute of regret be paid When her long life hath reached its final day : Men are we, and must grieve when even the Shade Of that which once was great, is passed away.
The King of THE Voice of song from distant lands shall call Sweden To that great King: shall hail the crowned Youth 1802 Who, taking counsel of unbending Truth, By one example hath set forth to all
How they with dignity may stand; or fall, If fall they must. Now, whither doth it tend?
And what to him and his shall be the end? That thought is one which neither can appal Nor cheer him; for the illustrious Swede hath done The thing which ought to be; is raised above All consequences: work he hath begun Of fortitude, and piety, and love,
Which all his glorious ancestors approve : The heroes bless him, him their rightful son.
TOUSSAINT, the most unhappy man of men! Whether the whistling Rustic tend his plough Within thy hearing, or thy head be now Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den ; O miserable Chieftain! where and when Wilt thou find patience? Yet die not; do thou Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow: Though fallen thyself, never to rise again, Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behind Powers that will work for thee; air, earth, and skies; There's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee; thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.
To Toussaint L'Ouverture 1802
WE had a female Passenger who came From Calais with us, spotless in array,— A white-robed Negro, like a lady gay, Yet downcast as a woman fearing blame; Meek, destitute, as seemed, of hope or aim She sate, from notice turning not away, But on all proffered intercourse did lay A weight of languid speech, or to the same No sign of answer made by word or face : Yet still those eyes retained their tropic fire, That, burning independent of the mind, Joined with the lustre of her rich attire To mock the Outcast.-O ye Heavens, be kind! And feel, thou Earth, for this afflicted Race!
After the expulsion of negroes from France September 1, 1802
In the Valley HERE, on our native soil, we breathe once more. near Dover The cock that crows, the smoke that curls,that sound Aug. 30, 1802 Ofbells;-those boys who in yon meadow-ground
In white-sleeved shirts are playing; and the roar Of the waves breaking on the chalky shore ;- All, all are English. Oft have I looked round With joy in Kent's green vales; but never found Myself so satisfied in heart before.
Europe is yet in bonds; but let that pass, Thought for another moment. Thou art free,
My Country! and 'tis joy enough and pride For one hour's perfect bliss, to tread the grass Of England once again, and hear and see, With such a dear Companion at my side.
Near Dover, INLAND, within a hollow vale, I stood; September And saw, while sea was calm and air was clear, 1802 The coast of France-the coast of France how
Drawn almost into frightful neighbourhood.
I shrunk; for verily the barrier flood Was like a lake, or river bright and fair, A span of waters; yet what power is there! What mightiness for evil and for good! Even so doth God protect us if we be
Virtuous and wise. Winds blow, and waters roll, Strength to the brave, and Power, and Deity; Yet in themselves are nothing! One decree Spake laws to them, and said that by the soul Only, the Nations shall be great and free.
« ПредыдущаяПродолжить » |