And Samson"s riddle is our own to-day, Of sweetness from the strong, Of union, peace, and freedom plucked away From the rent jaws of wrong.
From Treason"s death we draw a purer life, As, from the beast he slew, A sweetness sweeter for his bitter strife The old-time athlete drew!
1868.
HOWARD AT ATLANTA.
RIGHT in the track where Sherman Ploughed his red furrow, Out of the narrow cabin, Up from the cellar"s burrow, Gathered the little black people, With freedom newly dowered, Where, beside their Northern teacher, Stood the soldier, Howard.
He listened and heard the children Of the poor and long-enslaved Reading the words of Jesus, Singing the songs of David.
Behold!--the dumb lips speaking, The blind eyes seeing!
Bones of the Prophet"s vision Warmed into being!
Transformed he saw them pa.s.sing Their new life"s portal Almost it seemed the mortal Put on the immortal.
No more with the beasts of burden, No more with stone and clod, But crowned with glory and honor In the image of G.o.d!
There was the human chattel Its manhood taking; There, in each dark, bronze statue, A soul was waking!
The man of many battles, With tears his eyelids pressing, Stretched over those dusky foreheads His one-armed blessing.
And he said: "Who hears can never Fear for or doubt you; What shall I tell the children Up North about you?"
Then ran round a whisper, a murmur, Some answer devising: And a little boy stood up: "General, Tell "em we"re rising!"
O black boy of Atlanta!
But half was spoken The slave"s chain and the master"s Alike are broken.
The one curse of the races Held both in tether They are rising,--all are rising, The black and white together!
O brave men and fair women!
Ill comes of hate and scorning Shall the dark faces only Be turned to mourning?-- Make Time your sole avenger, All-healing, all-redressing; Meet Fate half-way, and make it A joy and blessing!
1869.
THE EMANc.i.p.aTION GROUP.
Moses Kimball, a citizen of Boston, presented to the city a duplicate of the Freedman"s Memorial statue erected in Lincoln Square, Washington.
The group, which stands in Park Square, represents the figure of a slave, from whose limbs the broken fetters have fallen, kneeling in grat.i.tude at the feet of Lincoln. The group was designed by Thomas Ball, and was unveiled December 9, 1879. These verses were written for the occasion.
AMIDST thy sacred effigies Of old renown give place, O city, Freedom-loved! to his Whose hand unchained a race.
Take the worn frame, that rested not Save in a martyr"s grave; The care-lined face, that none forgot, Bent to the kneeling slave.
Let man be free! The mighty word He spake was not his own; An impulse from the Highest stirred These chiselled lips alone.
The cloudy sign, the fiery guide, Along his pathway ran, And Nature, through his voice, denied The ownership of man.
We rest in peace where these sad eyes Saw peril, strife, and pain; His was the nation"s sacrifice, And ours the priceless gain.
O symbol of G.o.d"s will on earth As it is done above!
Bear witness to the cost and worth Of justice and of love.
Stand in thy place and testify To coming ages long, That truth is stronger than a lie, And righteousness than wrong.
THE JUBILEE SINGERS.
A number of students of Fisk University, under the direction of one of the officers, gave a series of concerts in the Northern States, for the purpose of establishing the college on a firmer financial foundation.
Their hymns and songs, mostly in a minor key, touched the hearts of the people, and were received as peculiarly expressive of a race delivered from bondage.
VOICE of a people suffering long, The pathos of their mournful song, The sorrow of their night of wrong!
Their cry like that which Israel gave, A prayer for one to guide and save, Like Moses by the Red Sea"s wave!
The stern accord her timbrel lent To Miriam"s note of triumph sent O"er Egypt"s sunken armament!
The tramp that startled camp and town, And shook the walls of slavery down, The spectral march of old John Brown!
The storm that swept through battle-days, The triumph after long delays, The bondmen giving G.o.d the praise!
Voice of a ransomed race, sing on Till Freedom"s every right is won, And slavery"s every wrong undone
1880.
GARRISON.
The earliest poem in this division was my youthful tribute to the great reformer when himself a young man he was first sounding his trumpet in Ess.e.x County. I close with the verses inscribed to him at the end of his earthly career, May 24, 1879. My poetical service in the cause of freedom is thus almost synchronous with his life of devotion to the same cause.
THE storm and peril overpast, The hounding hatred shamed and still, Go, soul of freedom! take at last The place which thou alone canst fill.
Confirm the lesson taught of old-- Life saved for self is lost, while they Who lose it in His service hold The lease of G.o.d"s eternal day.
Not for thyself, but for the slave Thy words of thunder shook the world; No selfish griefs or hatred gave The strength wherewith thy bolts were hurled.
From lips that Sinai"s trumpet blew We heard a tender under song; Thy very wrath from pity grew, From love of man thy hate of wrong.
Now past and present are as one; The life below is life above; Thy mortal years have but begun Thy immortality of love.
With somewhat of thy lofty faith We lay thy outworn garment by, Give death but what belongs to death, And life the life that cannot die!
Not for a soul like thine the calm Of selfish ease and joys of sense; But duty, more than crown or palm, Its own exceeding recompense.
Go up and on thy day well done, Its morning promise well fulfilled, Arise to triumphs yet unwon, To holier tasks that G.o.d has willed.