While these, ere yet he speaks, attest
The rapture which that thought has given;
He lifts his finger toward the east
And softly whispers, "God, in Heaven!"
O blessed hour! and happy he
To whom, thro patient love 'twas given
To set a fettered spirit free,
And wake a hope of God in Heaven
[NEAL DOW]
WRITTEN FOR A MEMORIAL DAY SERVICE
A Soul was stirred as one thro' blinding tears
Rehearsed a tale of want and cruel wrong;
Keen indignation banished doubts and fears;
The purpose of imperial youth grew strong.
A Voice was heard: "Alas! that on the side
Of sin and mad oppression there is power,
But we will change all this, if God so aid":—
And Maine's new freedom dated from that hour.
A Life was given; fraught with noble deeds;—
Aflame with words of truth, and tireless zeal,
And boldness for the right that gave no heed
To threatening hate, or sycophant's appeal.
But men decried the fervor of that Soul,
And would have hushed the Voice that pleaded still
Against the oppressors' power, and such control
As brought them gain, all others loss and ill.
And men denounced that Life; and where it came
Ofttimes their scoffings tainted the sweet air,
As with malicious scorn they hailed a name
That calumny itself left clean and fair.