IN pleasant lands have fallen the lines.
That bound our goodly heritage,
And safe beneath our sheltering vines
Our youth is blest, and soothed our age.
What thanks, O God, to thee are due,
That thou didst plant our fathers here;
And watch and guard them as they grew,
A vineyard, to the planter dear.
'The toils they bore, our ease have wrought;
They sowed in tears-in joy we reap;
The birthright they so dearly bought
We'll guard, 'till we with them shall sleep.
Shall freedom's struggles turn the good man pale!
How long shall vile apology for wrong,
Add to the torturing scourge another thong?
Oh, for a Saint, like those who sought and found,
For conscience' sake, sad homes beyond the main !—
The Fathers of New-England, who unbound,
In wild Columbia, Europe's double chain;
The men whose dust cries, Sparta, live again!
The slandered Calvinists of Charles's time
Thy kindness to our fathers shown,
In weal and wo through all the past,
Their grateful sons, O God, shall own,
While here their name and race shall last.
Fought, and they won it, Freedom's holy fight.
Like prophet-bards, although they hated rhyme,
All incorruptible as heaven's own light,
Spoke each devoted preacher for the right.
No servile doctrines, such as power approves,
They to the poor and broken-hearted taught;
With truths that tyrants dread, and conscience loves,
They wing'd and barb'd the arrows of their thought;
Sin'in high places was the mark they sought;
They said not, 'Man be circumspect, and thrive!
Be mean, base, slavish, bloody-and prevail!'
Nor doth the Deity they worshipp'd drive
A trade in men or sign such bills of sale.
With zeal they preach'd, with reverence they were heard;
For in their daring creed, sublime, sincere,
DANGER was found, that parson-hated word!
They flatter'd none-they knew nor hate nor fear,
But taught the will of God—and did it here.
LORD, thou requirest truth within,
And no mere outward fast for sin:
Like bulrush, man may bow his head,
While sackcloth under him is spread,
And yet no thought is in his heart
To act a just and righteous part.*
The fast our God hath chosen for us,
Is clearly taught and written thus:-
To loose the bands of wickedness,
Undo the burdens that oppress,
To set the toiling captives free,
And break the yoke of slavery.
Then shall thy Spirit, Lord, go forth
From east to west, from south to north-
Kneel, holy wretch, although the Sabbath air
Is weary of thy long unpunished prayer.
Thou, who with hellish zeal wert drunk and blind
When tyrants, cloven-hoofed in heart and brain,
Made murder pastime, and the tardy wind
Bore fresh glad tidings o'er the groaning main
Of Hecatombs on Moloch's altar slain !
The Church all righteous shall appear;
The Lord her guide, the Lord her rear,
Thy Spirit then, of peace and love,
Shall shed its influence from above.
OH God! my sins are manifold, against my life
And all my guilty deeds forgone, up to thy temple
Wilt thou release my trembling soul, that to despair is driven?
'Forgive,' a blessed voice replied,' and thou shalt be forgiven!'
My foemen, Lord! are fierce and fell, they spurn me in their pride,
They render evil for my good, my patience they deride;
Arise, oh King! and be the proud to righteous ruin driven !
'Forgive,' an awful answer came, ' as thou would'st be forgiven !'
Seven times, Oh Lord! I pardoned them, seven times they sinned again :
They practice still to work me wo, they triumph in my pain;
But let them dread my vengeance now, to just resentment driven !
Forgive!' the voice of thunder spake, or never be forgiven !'
Avenge the plundered poor, oh Lord!
But not with fire, but not with sword;
Avenge our wrongs, our chains, our sighs,
The famine in our children's eyes!
But not with sword-no, not with fire
Chastise our country's locustry!
Nor, let them feel thy heavier ire ;
Chastise them not with poverty!
Though cold in soul as coffined dust,
Their hearts as tearless, dead, and dry,
Let them in outraged mercy trust,
And find that mercy they deny !
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