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Rejoice with me! The chastening rod
Blossoms with love; the furnace heat Grows cool beneath His blessed feet
Whose form is as the Son of God!
Rejoice! Our Marah's bitter springs
Are sweetened; on our ground of grief
Rise day by day in strong relief The prophecies of better things.
Rejoice in hope! The day and night
Are one with God, and one with them
Who see by faith the cloudy hem Of Judgment fringed with Mercy's light!
THE BATTLE AUTUMN OF 1862.
HE flags of war like storm-birds fly,
The charging trumpets blow; Yet rolls no thunder in the sky,
No earthquake strives below.
And, calm and patient, Nature keeps
Her ancient promise well, Though o'er her bloom and greenness sweeps
The battle's breath of hell.
And still she walks in golden hours
Through harvest-happy farms,
Like jewels on her arms.
What mean the gladness of the plain,
This joy of eve and morn, The mirth that shakes the beard of grain
And yellow locks of corn ?
Ah! eyes may well be full of tears,
And hearts with hate are hot; But even-paced come round the years,
And Nature changes not.
She meets with smiles our bitter grief,
With songs our groans of pain ; She mocks with tint of flower and leaf
The war-field's crimson stain.
Still, in the cannon's pause, we hear
Her sweet thanksgiving-psalm ; Too near to God for doubt or fear,
She shares th' eternal calm.
She knows the seed lies safe below
The fires that blast and burn;
For all the tears of blood we sow
She waits the rich return.
She sees with clearer eye than ours
The good of suffering born, The hearts that blossom like her flowers,
And ripen like her corn.
O, give to us, in times like these,
The vision of her eyes ;
Our golden prophecies !
0, give to us her finer ear!
Above this stormy din,
Ring peace and freedoin in!
NOW’ST thou, Oslave-cursed land !
How, when the Chian's cup of guilt Was full to overflow, there came
God's justice in the sword of flame That, red with slaughter to its hilt, Blazed in the Cappadocian victor's hand ?
* It is recorded that the Chians, when subjugated by Mithri. dates of Cappadocia, were delivered up to their own slaves, to be carried away captive to Colohis. Athenæus considers this a just punishment for their wickedness in first introducing the slave-trade into Greece. From this ancient villany of the Chians the proverb arose, “ The Chian hath bought himself a master."