I must have mercy, or I die,
And sink in black despair;
I must forgive affronts, or I
Can hope no mercy there.
Whilst others their punctilios boast,
Lord bend my stubborn will,
For he that condescends the most,
Remains the victor still.
Fain would I imitate my Lord,
And bear each cross event;
Humility's its own reward,
But pride's a punishment.
Come! blessed Spirit, heavenly Dove,
Descend on balmy wings;
Come! tune my passions all to love,
And strike the peaceful strings.
Jesus, my longing soul shall wait,
And near Thy feet adore,
Till I shall reach that blissful state,
Where discord is no more.
FRATERNITY-MAY 1848.
What though the crowds who shout the word,
Pervert the meaning it should bear,
And feel their hearts with hatred stirred,
E'en while their plaudits load the air;
Yet shall not we, thou mighty THOUGHT,
Despair thy triumph yet to see,
Or doubt the good that shall be wrought
In thy great name, FRATERNITY.
By prophets told, by psalmists sung,
Preached on the Mount by lips sublime;
The theme of every sage's tongue,
For twice a thousand years of time.
What happy progress hast thou made?
What bliss to man has flowed from thee? What war and bloodshed hast thou stayed? What peace affirmed, FRATERNITY?
Alas! the years have failed to teach
The obvious lesson to mankind;
A myriad preachers failed to preach
Conviction to the deaf and blind.
Still do we rush to furious war,
Still to the slayer bend the knee,
And still, most Christian as we are,
Forget thy name, FRATERNITY.
And shall we, crammed with mutual hates,
Despise our neighbour for a flaw?
And sneer, because he promulgates,
Before he understands, thy law?
No! let us hail the word of might,
Breathed by a nation of the free;
Thy recognition is a light-
Thy name a faith, FRATERNITY.
The preacher may belie his creed,
But still the truth preserves its flame:
The sage may do a foolish deed,
Yet wisdom shares not in the shame.
Be scorning hushed-be cavil dumb-
Whatever ills the world may see,
We'll look for blessings yet to come,
In thy great name, FRATERNITY.
THE MORAL WARFARE.
When Freedom, on her natal day,
Within her war-rocked cradle lay,
An iron race around her stood,
Baptised her infant brow in blood;
And through the storm which round her swept,
Their constant ward and watchword kept.
Then, where quiet herds repose,
The roar of baleful battle rose,
And brethren of a common tongue,
To mortal strife as tigers sprung,
And every gift on freedom's shrine
Was man for beast, and blood for wine!
Our fathers to their graves have gone ;
Their strife is past-their triumphs won :
But sterner trials wait the race
Which rise into their honoured place-
A MORAL WARFARE with the crime
And folly of our evil time.
So let it be in God's own might
We gird us for the coming fight,
And strong in Him whose cause is ours,
In conflict with unholy powers—
grasp the weapons He has given,
The Light, and Truth, and Love of Heaven!
Alas! for men that they should be so blind,
And laud as gods these scourges of their kind;
Call each man glorious who has led a host,
And him most glorious who has murder'd most ;
Alas! that men should lavish upon these
The most obsequious homage of their knees-
The most obstreperous flattery of their tongue-
That these alone should be by poets sung-
That good men's names should to oblivion fall,
But those of heroes fill the mouths of all-
That those who labour in the arts of peace,
Making the nations prosper and increase,
Should fill a nameless and unhonour'd grave,
Their worth forgotten by the crowds 'they save,
But that the leaders who despoil the earth,
Fill it with tears, and quench its children's mirth,
Should with their statues block the public way,
And stand adored as demi-gods for aye!
False greatness! where the pedestal for one,
Is on the heads of multitudes undone :
False admiration! given, not understood;
False glory! only to be gain'd by blood.
THE PRAYER OF POVERTY.
Oh! Thou who ever lookest down with equal eye on all, On coronet, or queenly crown, or cottage-homestead small, We ask, that in our fatherland thy blessings may endure, We humbly pray on bended knee-Oh God! protect the Poor!
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