'Tis wild, perhaps, at first, and rude of air;
But watch the mountain-torrent at its source-
How foul and turbid, as it leaps with force,
Headlong, to hurry on its strong career-
Bursting old barriers. Follow, then, its course,
And note the gradual waters, how they clear!
Self-purified, the natural progress still,
As certain in the mortal as the stream,
Obeys the dictate of superior will,
That works its moral by eternal scheme!
And what are nations, but the gathering streams,
That gush from base beginnings? Let them flow,
Destined to gather tribute as they go;
And still expanding to the sun's broad gleams,
To catch new brightness with increasing length;
Thus grace and beauty link themselves to strength,
Until the glorious progress takes a name
Like Rome or Albion-which consenting realms,
Whom fear or favor, love or hate o'erwhelms,
Decree, in song and story, shall be-Fame!
Ours is a rash, rude people, like the rest,
Just at our wild beginnings-glad to own
That mountain impulse which must bear us on,
"Till Glory, born of Power, shall make our rule confessed
And thus we cover Texas! Thus we spell,
With deeds, the drowsy nations, as, of yore,
The adventurous Spaniard crack'd th' Atlantic's shell-
Though not for him to penetrate the core.
The good old Norman stock will do as well,
Nay, better; a selected stock of old,
With blood well-temper'd, resolute and bold;
Set for a mighty work, the way to pave
For the wrong'd nations, and, in one great fold,
Unite them, from old tyrannies to save!
We do but follow out our destiny,
As did the ancient Israelite-and strive,
Unconscious that we work at His decree,
By Whom alone we triumph as we live!
VI. STEEL-TRAPS AND SPRING-GUNS!
To say that France grows surly, and to show
That Britain builds new steamers, and looks wroth,
Because 'tis certain we must onward go,
Is scarcely to prevent us, by my troth!
We cannot help the matter if we would;
The race must have expansion-we must grow
Though every forward footstep be withstood,
And every inch of ground presents its foe!
We have, thank Heaven! a most prolific brood;
Look at the census, if you aim to know—
And then, the foreign influx, bad and good;
All helps new lands to clear-new seeds to sow; We must obey our destiny and blood,
Though Europe show her bill, and strike her blow!
VII. OUR PROGRESS LEGITIMATE.
And 'tis her policy, not less than ours,
That we should have such progress! Can she hope,
With daily growth of all our natural powers,
Here, on our soil, for our own soil, to cope?
Why clamor in the question, whose the right
By conquest or discovery ?-what eye,
Briton or Apalachian, had first sight
Of the great wastes that now disputed lie?'
The right depends on the propinquity,
The absolute sympathy of soil and place,
Needful against the foreign enemy,
And for the due expansion of our race;
And this expansion, certain as the light,
Makes the right sure, in progress of the might!
VIII. NATIONAL ABSORPTION INEVITABLE.
Let the world know that in our hemisphere,
Europe can have no foothold. The design
Of Providence accords it to our line;
And, soon or late, the nations far and near,
Shall all be marshall'd in one grand array
Of linked states; each, with peculiar race,
Sovereign and equal, in its several place,
Harmonious working in one common sway;
Blending in one the might of all, when foes
Assail them from without; yet each, as one, True to the spot o'er which its banner flows, And jealous of the birthright, sold to none ! These all-sufficient for themselves must be, Sufficient, too, for all beyond the sea!
IX. INTEGRITY OF THE UNION CERTAIN, ON CONDITIONS.
Well! Feuds will disunite us!-This may be,
But Europe gains not in our loss,-for then,
The danger is from one great sovereignty,
Since, it is sure, the links must join again!
The danger, then, is hers no less than ours,
Since it beholds such increase of our powers;
A central strength, beheld from either sea,
The Atlantic and Pacific; that, not vain
The faith that Apalachia then must be,
What Albion has been-ne'er to be again!
Nay, something more than Albion !-with more spread
Of compact empire, limitless and wide;
All soils, all surfaces, by oceans fed,
And thrice her strength in sons, from her own stock beside.
X. WHY THE UNITED STATES MUST CONQUER.
To keep us from our conquests, it requires
That we be conquer'd!-Battles may be fought,
And we may lose them oft, as did our sires;
Towns may be burnt, and frigates may be caught
And navies sunk, and armies may be slain;
And these may cool us till-we warm again!
But these are checks, not conquests-to delay,
Not turn us, from the onward destined way!
As well attempt Niagara on the leap,
With all her oceans, plunging o'er the steep,
As hope to stay the torrent which moves on,
Steady, and still increasing as it flows,
Destined to sweep the wastes of Oregon,
And in Canadian wilds to melt their fettering snows.
XI. WHAT NECESSARY FOR OUR CONQUEST.
To conquer Apalachia, you must take
Firm foothold in her centre !-you must rend
His rifle from the Kentuckian-you must break
Old Hickory's staff that man could never bend-
Must tear us from our hearths-no easy toil
With th' Anglo-Norman nature, which takes root,
And flourishes, where'er it sets its foot!
Must raze the spirit we've planted, from the soil,
Lest, tasting ere they strike, your myrmidons grow
To freemen with the taste; and, all forgot,
Except your tyrannies, turn, with fatal blow,
And make a "Crackskull Common" of the spot
For their own masters !-These achievements done,-
Then, how to keep the foothold you have won!
Take better counsel from an enemy!
Make us your friends! Forego the hope to sway
Or strangle; let the destiny have way,
Lest it destroy you! Better we should buy,
And barter with you, for our mutual wares,
Than, like great urchins, with more bulk than brains,
Still idly go together by the ears.
Let us avoid these penalties and pains!
Open your harbors to our western grains,
Let our commodities come duty free,
As we shall yours-and be prepared to see
That all the provinces that round us lie,
Are, by the power that every thing ordains,
Decreed to fall at length to our Posterity!
Woodlands, S. C., January, 1846
BY CAROLINE M. SAWYER.
Scorn not the man whose spirit feels
The curse of guilt upon it rest:
Upon whose brain the hideous seals
Of crime and infamy are prest!
Spurn not the lost one-nor in speech
More cold and withering than despair,
Of stern, relentless vengeance preach-
For he thy lesson will not bear!
"Twill rouse a demon in his heart
Which thou too late wouldst strive to chain,
And bid a thousand furies start
To life, which ne'er may sleep again.
No better, from her forest lair,
The famished lioness to goad,
Than, in his guilt, remorse, despair,
With watchful threats the Sinner load!
But if a soul thou wouldst redeem,
And lead a lost-one back to God!
Wouldst thou a guardian-angel seem
To one who long in guilt hath trod-
Go kindly to him-take his hand,
With gentlest words, within thine own,
And by his side, a brother, stand
Till thou the demon sin dethrone.
He is a man, and he will yield,
Like snows beneath the torrid ray,
And his strong heart, though fiercely steel'd
Before the breath of love give way;
He had a mother once, and felt
A mother's kiss upon his cheek,
And at her knee at evening knelt
The prayer of innocence to speak!
A mother!-ay! and who shall say,
Tho' sunk, debased, he now may be,
That spirit may not wake to-day,
Which filled him at that mother's knee?
No guilt so utter e'er became
But 'mid it we some good might find, And virtue, through the deepest shame, Still feebly lights the darkest mind.
Scorn not the guilty, then, but plead
With him, in kindest, gentlest mood,
And back the lost one thou mayst lead
To God, humanity and good!
Thou art thyself but man, and thou
Art weak, perchance, to fall as he ;-
Then mercy to the fallen show,
That mercy may be shown to thee!
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