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TO FANEUIL HALL.
EN! — if manhood still ye claim,
If the Northern pulse can thrill,
Freely, strongly still :
Shut the mill-gate — leave the stall
Throng to Faneuil Hall !
Wrongs which freemen never brooked
Dangers grim and fierce as they,
On your father's way;
Shaking with their earthquake-call
Ho, to Faneuil Hall !
From your capes and sandy bars
From your mountain-ridges cold,
Stoop their crowns of gold —
Echoes from that holy wall :
Rock your fathers' hall !
Banks and tariffs, stocks and trade,
Let them rise or let them fall :
Up, to Faneuil Hall !
Up, and let each voice that speaks
Ring from thence to Southern plains,
Prison-bolts and chains !
Dreaded more than steel or ball,
Heard from Faneuil Hall !
Have they wronged us? Let us then
Render back nor threats nor prayers ;
LET US UNCHAIN THEIRS !
Blazoned “Liberty for all !”.
Up, to Faneuil Hall !
IFT again the stately emblem on the Bay State's rusted
shield, Give to Northern winds the Pine-Tree on our banner's tattered field, Sons of men who sat in council with their Bibles round the board, Answering England's royal missive with a firm, “ THUS SAITH
THE LORD!” Rise again for home and freedom ! set the battle in array ! What the fathers did of old time we their sons must do to-day.
Tell us not of banks and tariffs
cease your paltry peddler cries Shall the good State sink her honor that your gambling stocks
may rise ?
Would ye barter man for cotton ? - That your gains may sum
up higher, Must we kiss the feet of Moloch, pass our children through the
fire ? Is the dollar only real ? God and truth and right a dream ? Weighed against your lying ledgers must our manhood kick the
O my God ! — for that free spirit, which of old in Boston town Smote the Province House with terror, struck the crest of Andros
down! For another strong-voiced Adams in the city's streets to cry : · Up for God and Massachusetts ! - Set your feet on Mammon's
lie! Perish banks and perish traffic — spin your cotton's latest pound — But in Heaven's name keep your honor — keep the heart o’the
Bay State sound !”
Where's the MAN for Massachusetts ? - Where's the voice to
speak her free? Where 's the hand to light up bonfires from her mountains to the
sea ? Beats her Pilgrim pulse no longer ? - Sits she dumb in her de
spair ? Has she none to break the silence ? Has she none to do and
dare? O my God! for one right worthy to lift up her rusted shield, And to plant again the Pine-Tree in her banner's tattered field !
SUGGESTED BY A VISIT TO THE CITY OF WASHINGTON IN THE
12TH MONTH OF 1845.
ITH a cold and wintry noon-light,
On its roofs and
From the gray sky overhead,
Through this broad street, restless ever,
Ebbs and flows a human tide,
Wealth and fashion side by side ;
Underneath yon dome, whose coping
Springs above them, vast and tall,
For the largess, base and small,
Base of heart! They vilely barter
Honor's wealth for party's place :
Leaving footprints of disgrace;
Yet, where festal lamps are throwing
Glory round the dancer's hair,
Backward on the sunset air;
There to-night shall woman's glances,
Star-like, welcome give to them,
Seek to touch their garments' hem,
From this glittering lie my vision
Takes a broader, sadder range,
Other pictures dark and strange;
Hark! the heavy gate is swinging
On its hinges, harsh and slow;
On a fearful group below
Pitying God! - Is that a WOMAN
On whose wrist the shackles clash ?
Underneath the stinging lash ?
Still the dance goes gayly onward !
What is it to Wealth and Pride ?
On a scene which earth should hide ?
Vainly to that mean Ambition
Which, upon a rival's fall,
With a reptile's slimy crawl,