Then came dear Love and shared with me his

And half my sorrow's burden took.

After the World's soft bed,

Its rich and dainty fare, Like down seemed Love's coarse pillow to my


His cheap food seemed as manna rare ; Fresh-trodden prints of bare and bleeding feet, Turned to the heedless cit

whence I came, Hardby I saw, and springs of worship sweet

Gushed from my cleft heart smitten by the same; Love looked me in the face and spake no words, But straight I knew those foot-prints were the


I followed where they led

And in a hovel rude, With naught to fence the weather from his head,

The King I sought for meekly stood

A naked, hungry child

Clung round his gracious knee, And a poor hunted slave looked up and smiled

To bless the smile that set him free; New miracles I saw his presence do,

No more I knew the hovel bare and poor, The gathered chips into a woodpile grew,

The broken morsel swelled to goodly store ; I knelt and wept: my Christ no more I seek, His throne is with the outcast and the weak.


WHEN a deed is done for Freedom, through the

broad earth's aching breast Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from

east to west, And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul

within him climb To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy

sublime Of a century bursts full-blossomed on the thorny

stem of Time.

Through the walls of hut and palace shoots the

instantaneous throe, When the travail of the Ages wrings earth's sys

tems to and fro; At the birth of each new Era, with a recognizing

start, Nation wildly looks at nation, standing with mute

lips apart, And glad Truth's

yet mightier man-child leaps beneath the Future's heart.

So the Evil's triumph sendeth, with a terror and a

chill, Under continent to continent, the sense of coming And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels his sympa

thies with God


In hot tear-drops ebbing earthward, to be drunk

up by the sod, Till a corpse crawls round unburied, delving in the

nobler clod.

For mankind are one in spirit, and an instinct bears

along, Round the earth's electric circle, the swift flash of

right or wrong; Whether conscious or unconscious, yet Humanity's

vast frame Through its ocean-sundered fibres feels the gush of

joy or shame ;In the gain or loss of one race all the rest have

equal claim.

Once to every man and nation comes the moment

to decide, In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good

or evil side; Some great cause, God's new Messiah, offering

each the bloom or blight, Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep

upon the right, And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that dark

ness and that light.

Hast thou chosen, O my people, on whose party

thou shalt stand, Ere the Doom from its worn sandals shakes the

dust against our land ? Though the cause of Evil prosper, yet 'tis Truth

alone is strong, And, albeit she wander outcast now, I see around

her throng Troops of beautiful, tall angels, to enshield her Backward look across the ages and the beacon

from all wrong

moments see, That, like peaks of some sunk continent, jut through

Oblivion's sea; Not an ear in court or market for the low fore

boding cry Of those Crises, God's stern winnowers, from

whose feet earth's chaff must fly; Never shows the choice momentous till the judg

ment hath passed by.

Careless seems the great Avenger; history's pages

but record One death-grapple in the darkness 'twixt old sys

tems and the Word ; Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on

the throne,Yet that scaffold sways the Future, and, behind the

dim unknown, Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch

above his own.

We see dimly in the Present what is small and

what is great,

Slow of faith, how weak an arm may turn the iron

helm of fate, But the soul is still oracular; amid the market's din, List the ominous 'stern whisper from the Delphic

cave within, • They enslave their children's children who make compromise with sin.”

[brood, Slavery, the earthborn Cyclops, fellest of the giant Suns of brutish Force and Darkness, who have

drenched the earth with blood, Famished in his self-made desert, blinded by our

purer day,

[blocks in formation]

Gropes in yet unblasted regions for his miserable

prey ; Shall we guide his gory fingers where our helpless

children play?

Then to side with Truth is noble when we share

her wretched crust, Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and ’tis pros

perous to be just ; Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward

stands aside, Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is cruci

fied, And the multitude make virtue of the faith they

had denied.

Count me o’er earth's chosen heroes,—they were

souls that stood alone, While the men they agonized for hurled the con

tumelious stone, Stood serene, and down the future saw the golden

beam incline To the side of perfect justice, mastered by their

faith divine, By one man's plain truth to manhood and to God's

supreme design. By the light of burning heretics Christ's bleeding

feet I track, Toiling up new Calvaries ever with the cross that

turns not back, And these mounts of anguish number how each

generation learned One new word of that grand Credo which in

prophet-hearts hath burned Since the first man stood God-conquered with his

face to heaven upturned.

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