TO FANEUIL HALL 1844. MEN!-if manhood still ye claim, If the Northern pulse can thrill, Roused by wrong or stung by shame, Freely, strongly still : Let the sounds of traffic die: Shut the mill-gate-leave the stall— Fling the axe and hammer byThrong to Faneuil Hall! Wrongs which freemen never brooked-- Every rood of Pilgrim land- From your capes and sandy bars— From your mountain-ridges cold, Through whose pines the westering stars Stoop their crowns of gold Come, and with your footsteps wake Echoes from that holy wall: Once again, for Freedom's sake, Up, and tread beneath your feet Banks and tariffs, stocks and trade, Freedom asks your common aid— Up, and let each voice that speaks Speak as well becomes the free- Have they wronged us? Let us then TO MASSACHUSETTS. 1844. WHAT though around thee blazes Give heaven the light of thine! Still, let the land be shaken By a summons of thine own! By all save truth forsaken, God holds the right side up! But when, with thine uniting, Shall thy line of battle falter, Lo! the Empire State is shaking On they come-the free battalions! "To the tyrant's plot no favor! Hear it, mother Earth, and hear it, THE PINE-TREE. 1846. LIFT again the stately emblem on the Bay State's rusted shield, Give to Northern winds the Pine-Tree on our banner's tattered field, Sons of men who sat in council with their Bibles round the board, Answering England's royal missive with a firm, "THUS SAITH THE LORD!" Rise again for home and freedom!—set the battle in array!— What the fathers did of old time we their sons must do to-day. Tell us not of banks and tariffs- -cease your paltry peddler cries— Shall the good State sink her honor that your gambling stocks may rise? Would ye barter man for cotton ?-That your gains may sum up higher, Must we kiss the feet of Moloch, pass our children through the fire? Is the dollar only real?-God and truth and right a dream? Weighed against your lying ledgers must our manhood kick the beam? Oh, my God!--for that free spirit, which of old in 1 Smote the Province House with terror, struck the crest of Andros down! For another strong-voiced Adams in the city's streets to cry: "Up for God and Massachusetts !-Set your feet on Mammon's lie! Perish banks and perish traffic-spin your cotton's latest pound But in Heaven's name keep your honor-keep the heart o' the Bay State sound!" Where's the MAN for Massachusetts ?-Where's the voice to speak her free?— Where's the hand to light up bonfires from her mountains to the sea? Beats her Pilgrim pulse no longer?-Sits she dumb in her despair?— Has she none to break the silence ?-Has she none to do and dare? Oh my God! for one right worthy to lift up her rusted shield, And to plant again the Pine-Tree in her banner's tattered field! LINES, SUGGESTED BY A VISIT TO THE CITY OF WASHINGTON IN THE 12TH MONTH OF 1845. WITH a cold and wintry noon-light, From the gray sky overhead, Broadly, vaguely, all around me, lies the half-built town outspread. |