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VOICES OF THE TRUE-HEARTED.

No. 18.

POEMS ON SOME INCIDENTS OF ANTI-SLAVERY. TO THE MEMORY OF CHARLES B. STORRS,

BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

Was it right,

Late President of Western Reserve College. While my unnumbered brethren toiled and bled, That I should dream away the entrusted hours On rose leaf beds, pampering the coward heart, With feelings all too delicate for use ?

COLERIDGE.

“ He fell a martyr to the interests of his colored brethren.

For many months did that mighty man of God apply his dis. The general history of any one radical reform is

criminating and gigantic mind to the subject of Slavery and the history of all. There is, at first, the deep con

its remedy : and, when his soul could no longer contain his viction of right, and devotedness to the truth what.

holy indignation against the upholders and apologists of this ever betide, opposed by the scorn loathing,and hatred

unrighteous system, he gave veut to his aching heart, and of the mass. Then comes open violence beating down, if possible, the firm endurance of men who poured forth his clear thoughts and holy feelings in such deep have foreseen the peril and do not fear to brave it. and soul-entrancing eloquence, that other men, whom he Then is heard above the clamor the voices of some

would fain in his humble modesty acknowledge his superiors, few whom the world calls noble, who yet by the sat at bis feet and looked up as children to a parent.”-Cor. world's love are not altogether corrupt. And then respondent of the ' Liberator,' 16th of 11th mo. 1839. peal upon peal arise the shouts of victory after vic Thou hast fallen in thine armor, tory by those who, once dispised, are now going on

Thou martyr of the Lord ! conquering and to conquer. Then high names are

With thy last breath crying—« Ouward !” given to martyrs; and men believing them to be

And thy hand upon the sword. God-sent, and therefore inimitable, sit down with

The haughty heart derideth, folded arms while the roar, it may be, of a yet And the sinful lip reviles, mightier combat is raging around them.

But the blessing of the perishing Such was the case when Socrates drank the hem.

Around thy pillow smiles ! lock; when Jesus was the Word-made-flesh, and was nailed to the cross; when Luther rocked Catholic

When to our cup of trembling dom with its array of soulless mummeries and count

The added drop is given, less heresies, to its foundation; when George Fox

And the long suspended thunder shook priestdom in England sorely; and when Sharpe

Falls terribly from Heaven,and Wilberforce and Clarkson pleaded for the rights When a new and fearful freedom against the powers of men, and gave to the world a

Is proffer'd of the Lord most noble proof of Truth's might. And such too, is

To the slow consuming Famine now the case when Anti-Slavery-tbat only demo

The Pestilence and Sword !cracy which our nation has-defying the triple alliance of Love of Power with Love of Gold and

When the refuges of Falsehood Hatred of Man, has kept to the breeze its banner

Shall be swept away in wrath, these more than twenty years, bearing it up and

And the temple shall be shaken Jown through church aisles and legislative halls, With its idol to the earth, flapping it in the faces of drowsy wealth and rank,

Shall not thy words of warning and, from beneath it, pouring out defiance and re

Be all remember'd then ? solve upon the startled ear of oppression.

And thy now unheeded message In that warfare have been many incidents right

Burn in the hearts of men ? worthy of the poet's song. And well have some of them been used. I have hastily thrown together

Oppression's hand may scatter such poems upon them as are at hand, with this

Its nettles on thy tomb, eulogium—that never in any struggle did more Man.

And even Christian bosoms ly and Christian poetry gush up from the deep fonn

Deny thy memory room ; tains of the soul.

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Lo-the waking up of nations,

From Slavery's fatal sleepThe murmur of a Universe

Deep calling unto Deep! Joy to thy spirit, brother!

On every wind of Heaven The onward cheer and summons

Of FEEEDOM's soul is given!

Glory to God for ever!

Beyond the despot's will The soul of Freedom liveth

Imperishable still. The words which thou hast utter'd

Are of that soul a part, And the good seed thou hast scatter'd

Is springing from the heart.

Up to our altars, then,

Haste we, and summon Courage and loveliness,

Manhood and woman! Deep let our pledges be:

Freedom for ever ! Truce with Oppression,

Never, oh! never! By our own birthright-gift,

Granted of HeavenFreedom for heart and lip,

Be the pledge given! If we have whisper'd truth,

Whisper no longer; Speak as the tempest does,

Sterner and stronger; Still be the tones of truth

Louder and firmer, Startling the haughty South

With the deep murmur; God and our charter's right,

Freedom for ever! Truce with Oppression,

Never, oh! never !

In the evil days before us,

And the trials yet to comeIn the shadow of the prison,

Or the cruel martyrdomWe will think of thee, O brother!

And thy sainted name shall be In the blessing of the captive,

And the anthem of the free.

CLERICAL OPPRESSORS.

TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS SHIPLEY.

BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

President of the Pennsylvania Abolition Society, who died on the 17th of the 9th month, 1836, a devoted Christian and Philanthropist.

BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

Gone to thy Heavenly Father's rest!

The flowers of Eden round thee blowing, And on thine ear the murmurs blest

Of Shiloah's waters softly flowing !
Beneath that Tree of Life which gives
To all the earth its healing leaves !
In the white robe of angels clad!

And wandering by that sacred river,
Whose streams of holiness make glad

The city of our God for ever!

Gentlest of spirits !--not for thee

Our tears are shed-our sighs are given : Why mourn to know thou art a free

Partaker of the joys of Heaven?
Finish'd thy work, and kept thy faith
In Christian firmness urto death;
And beautiful as sky and earth,

When Autumn's sun is downward going, The blessed memory of thy worth

Around thy place of slumber glowing !

In the Report of the celebrated pro-slavery meeting, in Charleston, s. c., on the 4th of the 9th month, 1835, published in the Courier of that city, it is stated, The CLERGY of all denominations altended in a body, LENDING THEIR SANCTION TO THR PROCEEDINGS, and adding by their presence to the impres. sive character of the scene!"

Just God !--and these are they Who minister at Thine altar, God of Right! Men who their hands with prayer and blessing lay

On Israel's Ark of light !

What! preach and kidnap men?
Give thanks—and rob Thy own afflicted poor?
Talk of Thy glorious liberty, and then

Bolt hard the captive's door?

What! servants of Thy own
Merciful Son, who came to seek and save
The homeless and the outcast,—fettering down

The task'd and plunder'd slave!

Pilate and Herod, friends!
Chief priests and rulers, as of old, combine!
Just God and holy! is that church which lends

Strength to the spoiler, Thine ?

Paid hypocrites, who turn Judgment aside, and rob the Holy Book Of those high words of truth which search and burn

In warning and rebuke.

Feed sat, ye locusts, feed !
And, in your tassel'd pulpits, thank the Lord
That, from the toiling bondman's utter need,

Ye pile your own full board.

How long, O Lord! how long
Shall such a Priesthood barter truth away,
And, in Thy name, for robbery and wrong

At Thy own altars pray?

Is not thy hand stretch'd forth Visibly in the heavens, to awe and smite ? Shall not the living God of all the earth,

And heaven above, do right?

Woe, then, to all who grind
Their brethren of a Common Father down!
To all who plunder from th' immortal mind

Its bright and glorious crown!

Woe to the Priesthood! woe
To those whose hire is with the price of blood-
Perverting, darkening, changing as they go,

The searching truths of God!

Their glory and their might
Shall perish; and their very names shall be
Vile before all the people, in the light

Of A WORLD'S LIBERTY.

Oh! speed the moment on When Wrong shall cease-and Liberty, and Love, And Truth, and Right, throughout the earth be known

As in their home above.

But woe for us! who linger still

With feebler strength and hearts less lowly, And minds less steadfast to the will

Of Him whose every work is holy.
For not like thine, is crucified
The spirit of our human pride;
And at the bondman's tale of woe,

And for the outcast and forsaken,
Not warm like thine, but cold and slow,

Our weaker sympathies awaken.

Darkly upon our struggling way

The storm of human hate is sweeping; Hunted and branded, and a prey,

Our watch amidst the darkness keeping ! Oh! for that hidden strength which can Nerve unto death the inner man ! Oh! for thy spirit, tried and true,

And constant in the hour of trial, Prepared to suffer, or to do,

In meekness and in self-denial.

Oh! for that spirit, meek and mild,

Derided, spurned, yet uncomplainingBy man deserted and reviled,

Yet faithful to its trust remaining. Still prompt and resolute to save From scourge and chain the hunted slave! Unwavering in the Truth's defence,

Even where the fires of Hate are burning, Th’ unquailing eye of innocence

Alone upon th' oppressor turning!

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BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

From each and all, if God hath not forsaken
LINES.

Our land, and left us to an evil choice,
Written on the adoption of Pinckney's Resolutions, in the Loud as the summer thunderbolt shall waken
House of Representatives, and the passage of Calhoun's

A PEOPLE'S VOICE. “ Bill of Abominations" to a second reading, in the Senate of the United States.

Startling and stern! the Northern winds shall bear it

Over Potomac's to St. Mary's wave;
And buried Freedom shall awake to hear it

Within her grave. Now, by our fathers' ashes ! where's the spirit

or the true-hearted and the unshackled gone ? Oh, let that voice go forth! The bondman sighing Sons of old freemen, do we but inberit

By Santee's wave, in Mississippi's cane,
Their names alone ? Shall feel the hope, within his bosom dying,

Revive again.
Is the old Pilgrim spirit quench'd within us ?
Stoops the proud manhood of our souls so low,

Let it go forth! The millions who are gazing
That Mammon's !ure or Party's wile can win us Sadly upon us from afar, shall smile,
To silence now?
And unto God devout thanksgiving raising,

Bless us the while. No. When our land to ruin's brink is verging,

In God's name, let us speak while there is time ! Oh, for your ancient freedom, pure and holy,
Now, when the padlocks for our lips are forging,

For the deliverance of a groaning earth,
SILENCE IS CRIME!
For the wrong'd captive, bleeding, crush'd and lowly,

Let it go forth! Wbat! shall we henceforth humbly ask as favors

Sons of the best of fathers ! will ye falter
Rights all our own? In madness shall we barter,
For treacherous peace, the FREEDOM Nature gave us, Ho! once again on Freedom's holy altar

With all they left ye peril'd and at stake?
God and our charter ?

The fire awake! Here shall the statesman seek the free to fetter?

Prayer-strengthen'd for the trial, come together, Here Lynch law light its horrid fires on high? Put on the harness for the moral fight, And, in the church, their proud and skill'd abettor, And, with the blessing of your heavenly Father, Make truth a lie ?

MAINTAIN THE RIGHT!

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It comes to thee, Alton, by day or by night,
Where Freedom's champion stood;

Weep-for a brother fallen !--weep for him
And the child, when he hears it, shall cry for light, Who first hath found a glorious martyrdom!
Though the sun is high, and the day is bright; Weep for the broken heart!-the desolate home,
And the mother, in frantic mood,

Whose light of gladness is for ever dim! Shall shriek as it mutters, the cradle near, Who of us, next, on Slavery's bloody altar In a whisper so loud that the dead might hear, Shall meet his doom? Thou only knowest, God! "I AM BLOOD!—THE VOICE OF BLOOD!"

Yet will we tread the path our brother trod, Trusting in Thee! Our spirits shall not falter

Amid the darkness of the coming strife, In street, lane, and alley, in parlor and hall,

Though drunk with agony the soul should reel! That sepulchre voice is there

Here, Lovejoy! on thy bloody grave we kneel, Crying.-«Hear, hear the martyr's imploring call!

And pledge anew our fortune-honor-life-
O God! see the blood !-how it follows the ball,

All for the slave!
As he sinks like the song of despair ;

Farewell!-thy rest is won !
But I come—the precursor of sorrow, I come

One tear for thee-then, strengthened, press we on! In church-aisle and dwelling, in cellar and dome,

To cry with the tongue of the air ;

BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

1160 could ye not hear when the young mother plead

For the babe starting wild by her side ? -
Must her husband's cold bosom then pillow her head,
And her warm kiss, impressed on the lips of the

WENDELL PHILLIPS.
dead,
Excite no emotion but pride !
I tell thee, Proud City, the vengeance of God,
Shall be felt, if not feared, on thy Golgotha sod,

He stood upon the world's broad threshold ; wide

The din of battle and of slaughter rose ;
Where the Martyr of Liberty died.'"

He saw God stand upon the weaker side,

That sank in seeming loss before its foes ; Wake, wake, Illinois! for through prairie and Many there were who made great haste and sold glen

Unto the cunning enemy their swords; There is blood !-there's the voice of blood ! He scorned their gifts of same, and power, and gold, It bids thee arouse, or the rust on their chain

And, underneath their soft and flowery words, Shall scar the fair necks of your daughters—a stain Heard the cold serpent hiss; therefore he went

Bleach'd alone by your hearts' hot food; And humbly joined him to the weaker part, Your sons low in manacles crouch at your feet Fanatic named, and fool, yet well content Where the prairie-fowl starts at the young lamb So he could be the nearer to God's heart, kins' bleat,

And feel its solemn pulses sending blood
In the fields where your free dwellings stood. Through all the wide spread veins of endless good.

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