S ICHABOD! O fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn The glory from his gray hairs gone Forevermore ! And pitying tears, not scorn and wrath, O, dumb be passion's stormy rage, Have lighted up and led his age Scorn! would the angels laugh, to mark OUR STATE. All else is gone; from those great eyes When faith is lost, when honor dies, Then, pay the reverence of old days Walk backward, with averted gaze, TH OUR STATE. HE South-land boasts its teeming cane, And sunset's radiant gates unfold Rough, bleak and hard, our little State From Autumn frost to April rain, Yet, on her rocks, and on her sands, And wintry hills, the school-house stands, The harvest of the mind supplies. The riches of the commonwealth Are free, strong minds, and hearts of health; And more to her than gold or grain, The cunning hand and cultured brain. 79 For well she keeps her ancient stock, Nor heeds the sceptic's puny hands, While near her school the church-spire stands; Nor fears the blinded bigot's rule, While near her church-spire stands the school! Poor, whispering tremblers! — yet we boast Our blood and name; Bursting its century-bolted frost, Each gray cairn on the Northman's coast STANZAS FOR THE TIMES. O for the open firmament, The prairie free, The desert hillside, cavern-rent, Than web of Persian loom most rare, Better the rough rock, bleak and bare, I hear a voice: "Thus saith the Law, Clasping her liberal hands in awe, I hear another voice: «The poor Turn not the outcast from thy door, Dear Lord! between that law and thee Yet not untrue to man's decree, Not mine Sedition's trumpet-blast I read the lesson of the Past, O, clear-eyed Faith, and Patience, thou Lend strength to weakness, teach us how 81 |