The boundless future in the vast And lonely river, seaward rolled. Who feeds its founts with rain and dew; And trains the bordering vines, whose blue pass? Broad are these streams-my steed obeys, I hunt till day's last glimmer dies That welcome my return at night. SEVENTY-SIX. WHAT heroes from the woodland sprung, The thrilling cry of freedom rung, And to the work of warfare strung The yeoman's iron hand! Hills flung the cry to hills around, And ocean-mart replied to mart, And streams, whose springs were yet unfound, Pealed far away the startling sound Into the forest's heart. Then marched the brave from rocky steep, From mountain river swift and cold; The borders of the stormy deep, The vales where gathered waters sleep, Sent up the strong and bold, As if the very earth again Grew quick with God's creating breath, And, from the sods of grove and glen, Rose ranks of lion-hearted men To battle to the death. The wife, whose babe first smiled that day, The fair fond bride of yestereve, And aged sire and matron gray, Already had the strife begun; Already blood on Concord's plain Along the springing grass had run, And blood had flowed at Lexington, Like brooks of April rain. That death-stain on the vernal sward Hallowed to freedom all the shore; In fragments fell the yoke abhorredThe footstep of a foreign lord Profaned the soil no more. THE LIVING LOST. MATRON! the children of whose love, Each to his grave, in youth hath passed, And now the mould is heaped above The dearest and the last! Bride! who dost wear the widow's veil Yet there are pangs of keener wo, The tears that scald the cheek, Weep, ye who sorrow for the dead, Thus breaking hearts their pain relieve; And reverenced are the tears ye shed, And honoured ye who grieve. The praise of those who sleep in earth, The pleasant memory of their worth, Shall heal the tortured mind at last. But ye, who for the living lost Who shall with soothing words accost The strength of your despair? Grief for your sake is scorn for them Whom ye lament and all condemn; A gloom from which ye turn your eyes. |