Wearing the green nodding plumes of the Court of the Prairie,
Gyves on her free-born limbs, on her fair arms shackles,
Blood on her garments, terror and grief in her features.
“Tremble,” she cried, “tho’ the battle seem thine for a season,
Not a drop of my blood shall be wanting to judge thee.
Tremble, thou fallen from mercy ere fallen from office.”
This poem, which is a long one, contains a tribute to Sumner, as do also “Tremont Temple,” “The Senator’s Return,” and “An Hour in the Senate.” I give a brief extract from the last named:
Falls there no lightning from yon distant heaven
To crush this man’s potential impudence?
Shall not its outraged patience thunder: “Hence!