TO FANEUIL HALL 1844. MEN !—if manhood still ye claim, If the Northern pulse can thrill, Freely, strongly still Shut the mill-gate-leave the stallFling the axe and hammer by Throng to Faneuil Hall ! Wrongs which freemen never brookedDangers grim and fierce as they, Which, like couching lions, looked On your fathers way; These your instant zeal demand, Shaking with their earthquake-call Every rood of Pilgrim land Ho, to Faneuil Hall ! From your capes and sandy bars From your mountain-ridges cold, Through whose pines the westering stars crowns of goldCome, and with your footsteps wake Echoes from that holy wall: Once again, for Freedom's sake, Rock your fathers' hall ! Stoop their Up, and tread beneath your feet Every cord by party spun; Let your hearts together beat As the heart of one. Banks and tariffs, stocks and trade, Let them rise or let them fall : Freedom asks your common aid Up, to Faneuil Hall ! Up, and let each voice that speaks Ring from thence to Southern plains, Sharply as the blow which breaks Prison-bolts and chains ! Dreaded more than steel or ball, Heard from Faneuil Hall ! Have they wronged us ? Let us then Render back nor threats nor prayers; Have they chained our free-born men ? LET US UNCHAIN THEIRS ! Up! your banner leads the van, Blazoned “Liberty for all !” Finish what your sires began Up, to Faneuil Hall ! TO MASSACHUSETTS. 1844. What though around thee blazes No fiery rallying sign? From all thy own high places, Give heaven the light of thine ! What though unthrilled, unmoving, The statesman stands apart, And comes no warm approving From Mammon's crowded mart? Still, let the land be shaken By a summons of thine own! By all save truth forsaken, Why, stand with that alone! Shrink not from strife unequal! With the best is always hope; And ever in the sequel God holds the right side up! But when, with thine uniting, Come voices long and loud, And far-off hills are writing Thy fire-words on the cloud : A deep response is heard, Rolls back thy rallying word; Shall thy line of battle falter, With its allies just in view ? My Father-land be true! Speed them onward far and fast ! Like the Sibyl's on the blast! Lo! the Empire State is shaking The shackles from her hand; The level sunset land ! East and West and North they come, Is the beat of Freedom's drum. “ To the tyrant's plot no favor! No heed to place-fed knaves ! Bar and bolt the door forever Against the land of Slaves !” Hear it, mother Earth, and hear it, The Heavens above us spread! Was sleeping, but not dead ! 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 ban ner's tattered field, Sons of men who sat in council with their Bibles round the board, Answering England's royal missive with a firm, 6 THUS SAI'TH 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 man. hood kick the beam ? Oh, my God !—for that free spirit, which of old in Boston town 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 poundBut 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, On its roofs and steeples shed, From the gray sky overhead, town outspread. |