Matched with one leaf of that plain civic wreath
Our brave for honor's blazon shall bequeath,

Through whose desert a rescued Nation sets
Her heel on treason, and the trumpet hears
Shout victory, tingling Europe's sullen ears
With vain resentments and more vain regrets!

XI

Not in anger, not in pride,

Pure from passion's mixture rude,

Ever to base earth allied,

But with far-heard gratitude,

Still with heart and voice renewed,

To heroes living and dear martyrs dead,

345

350

The strain should close that consecrates our brave. 355

Lift the heart and lift the head!

Lofty be its mood and grave,

Not without a martial ring,
Not without a prouder tread
And a peal of exultation:

360

A hero half, and half the whim of Fate,
But the pith and marrow of a Nation

Drawing force from all her men, Highest, humblest, weakest, all, For her time of need, and then Pulsing it again through them, Till the basest can no longer cower,

370

Feeling his soul spring up divinely tall,

Touched but in passing by her mantle-hem.

Come back, then, noble pride, for 't is her dower!

How could poet ever tower,

If his passions, hopes, and fears,

If his triumphs and his tears,

Kept not measure with his people?
Boom, cannon, boom to all the winds and waves!
Clash out, glad bells, from every rocking steeple !
Banners, adance with triumph, bend your staves!
And from every mountain-peak

Let beacon-fire to answering beacon speak,
Katahdin tell Monadnock, Whiteface he,
And so leap on in light from sea to sea,
Till the glad news be sent

Across a kindling continent,

375

380

385

389

Making earth feel more firm and air breathe braver:

"Be proud! for she is saved, and all have helped to

save her!

She that lifts up the manhood of the poor,
She of the open soul and open door,

With room about her hearth for all mankind!
The fire is dreadful in her eyes no more;
From her bold front the helm she doth unbind,
Sends all her handmaid armies back to spin,
And bids her navies, that so lately hurled

395

Their crashing battle, hold their thunders in, 399 Swimming like birds of calm along the unharmful shore. No challenge sends she to the elder world,

That looked askance and hated; a light scorn Plays o'er her mouth, as round her mighty knees She calls her children back, and waits the morn Of nobler day, enthroned between her subject seas." 405

XII

Bow down, dear Land, for thou hast found release! Thy God, in these distempered days,

Hath taught thee the sure wisdom of His ways, And through thine enemies hath wrought thy peace! Bow down in prayer and praise!

No poorest in thy borders but may now

Lift to the juster skies a man's enfranchised brow,
O Beautiful! my Country! ours once more!
Smoothing thy gold of war-dishevelled hair
O'er such sweet brows as never other wore,
And letting thy set lips,

Freed from wrath's pale eclipse,

The rosy edges of their smile lay bare,
What words divine of lover or of poet
Could tell our love and make thee know it,
Among the Nations bright beyond compare?

What were our lives without thee?
What all our lives to save thee?
We reck not what we gave thee;
We will not dare to doubt thee,
But ask whatever else, and we will dare!

410

415

424

421

MEMORIÆ POSITUM

R. G. SHAW

BENEATH the trees,

My lifelong friends in this dear spot,

Sad

now for

eyes that see them not,

I hear the autumnal breeze

Wake the dry leaves to sigh for gladness gone,
Whispering vague omens of oblivion,

Hear, restless as the seas,

Time's grim feet rustling through the withered

grace

Of many a spreading realm and strong-stemmed

race,

Even as my own through these.

Why make we moan

For loss that doth enrich us yet

With upward yearnings of regret?

Bleaker than unmossed stone

Our lives were but for this immortal gain
Of unstilled longing and inspiring pain!

As thrills of long-hushed tone

Live in the viol, so our souls grow fine
With keen vibrations from the touch divine

Of noble natures gone.

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15

20

i. This poem is printed here on account of its relation to the Commemoration Ode; see note, p. 57. The same memories nspired the stanza in Mr. Hosea Biglow's Letter, etc.

"T were indiscreet

To vex the shy and sacred grief
With harsh obtrusions of relief;

Yet, Verse, with noiseless feet,

Go whisper: "This death hath far choicer ends 2
Than slowly to impearl in hearts of friends;
These obsequies 't is meet

Not to seclude in closets of the heart,

But, church-like, with wide doorways, to impart
Even to the heedless street."

30

II

Brave, good, and true,

I see him stand before me now,

And read again on that young brow,

Where every hope was new,

How sweet were life! Yet, by the mouth firm-set, 35 And look made up for Duty's utmost debt,

I could divine he knew

That death within the sulphurous hostile lines,
In the mere wreck of nobly-pitched designs,
Plucks heart's-ease, and not rue.

Happy their end

Who vanish down life's evening stream
Placid as swans that drift in dream

Round the next river-bend!

Happy long life, with honor at the close,

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4.

Friends' painless tears, the softened thought of foes

And yet, like him, to spend

All at a gush, keeping our first faith sure

From mid-life's doubt and eld's contentment poor,

What more could Fortune send ?

50