A LAY OF OLD TIME. Rise up, FREMONT! and go before; The Hour must have its Man; Put on the hunting-shirt once more, And lead in Freedom's van! 8th mo., 1856. THE CONQUEST OF FINLAND.65 ACROSS the frozen marshes But where the low, gray headlands No wares hath she to barter But still by isle or main-land She drops her anchor down, Where'er the British cannon Rained fire on tower and town. Outspake the ancient Amtman, "Godbless her," said the coast-guard,— "Where'er she drops her anchor, "Each wasted town and hamlet "The sunken boats of fishers, "And so to Finland's sorrow Then said the gray old Amtman, "We braved the iron tempest That thundered on our shore : But when did kindness fail to find The key to Finland's door? "No more from Aland's ramparts "Beside our fierce Black Eagle "For Finland, looking seaward, No coming foe shall scan; And the holy bells of Abo Shall ring, 'Good-will to man!' 259 "Then row thy boat, O fisher! "Sit down, old men, together, A LAY OF OLD TIME. WRITTEN FOR THE ESSEX COUNTY AGRICULTURAL FAIR. ONE morning of the first sad Fall, She, blushing in her fig-leaf suit He, sighing o'er his bitter fruit For Eden's drupes of gold. Behind them, smiling in the morn, They heard the air above them fanned, "Arise," he said, "why look behind, "I leave with you a spell whose power "I clothe your hands with power to lift The curse from off your soil : Your very doom shall seem a gift, Your loss a gain through Toil. "Go, cheerful as yon humming-bees, The pilgrims of the world went forth Obedient to the word, And found where'er they tilled the earth A garden of the Lord! The thorn-tree cast its evil fruit And blushed with plum and pear And seeded grass and trodden root Grew sweet beneath their care. We share our primal parents' fate, And in our turn and day, Look back on Eden's sworded gate As sad and lost as they. But still for us his native skies Day of the Lord, of darkness and not light! It breaks in thunder and the whirlwind's roar ! Even so, Father! Let thy will be done, Turn and o'erturn, end what thou hast begun In judgment or in mercy: as for me, Has reached the hour (albeit through When Good and Evil, as for final strife, Close dim and vast on Armageddon's plain; And Michael and his angels once again Drive howling back the Spirits of the Night. O for the faith to read the signs aright And, from the angle of thy perfect sight, See Truth's white banner floating on before; And the Good Cause, despite of venal friends, And base expedients, move to noble ends; See Peace with Freedom make to Time amends, And, through its cloud of dust. the threshing-floor, Flailed by thy thunder, heaped with chaffless grain ! 1857. |