The American Union Speaker Part 31

"O, stay," the maiden said, "and rest Thy weary head upon this breast!"-- A tear stood in his bright blue eye; But still he answered with a sigh, "Excelsior!"

"Beware the pine-tree's withered branch!

Beware the awful avalanche!"

This was the peasant's last good night;-- A voice replied, far up the height, "Excelsior!"

At break of day, as heavenward The pious monks of Saint Bernard Uttered their oft-repeated prayer, A voice cried through the startled air, "Excelsior!"

A traveller,--by the faithful hound, Half buried in the snow was found, Still grasping in his hand of ice That banner with the strange device, "Excelsior!"

There, in the twilight cold and gray, Lifeless but beautiful he lay; And from the sky, serene and far, A voice fell, like a falling star,-- "Excelsior!"

H. W. Longfellow.

CLx.x.xIII.

A PSALM OF LIFE.

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, "Life is but an empty dream!"

For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal; "Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"

Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each to-morrow Find us further than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting; And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like m.u.f.fled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!

Let the dead Past bury its dead!

Act,--act in the living Present!

Heart within, and G.o.d o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time;--

Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and s.h.i.+pwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.

H. W. Longfellow.

CLx.x.xIV.

THE LAUNCHING OF THE s.h.i.+P.

All is finished, and at length Has come the bridal day Of beauty and of strength.

To-day the vessel shall be launched!

With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched, And o'er the bay, Slowly, in all his splendors dight, The great sun rises to behold the sight.

The ocean old, Centuries old, Strong as youth, and as uncontrolled, Paces restless to and fro, Up and down the sands of gold.

His beating heart is not at rest; And far and wide With ceaseless flow His beard of snow Heaves with the heaving of his breast.

He waits impatient for his bride.

There she stands, With her foot upon the sands, Decked with flags and streamers gay, In honor of her marriage-day, Her snow-white signals fluttering, blending, Round her like a veil descending, Ready to be The bride of the gray old sea.

Then the Master, With a gesture of command, Waved his hand; And at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard, All around them and below, The sound of hammers, blow on blow, knocking away the sh.o.r.es and spurs.

And see! she stirs!

She starts,--she moves,--she seems to feel The thrill of life along her keel, And, spurning with her foot the ground, With one exulting, joyous bound, She leaps into the ocean's arms.

And lo! from the a.s.sembled crowd There rose a shout, prolonged and loud, That to the ocean seemed to say, "Take her, O bridegroom, old and gray; Take her to thy protecting arms, With all her youth and all her charms."

How beautiful she is! how fair She lies within those arms, that press Her form with many a soft caress Of tenderness and watchful care!

Sail forth into the sea, O s.h.i.+p!

Through wind and wave, right onward steer!

The moistened eye, the trembling lip, Are not the signs of doubt or fear.

Sail forth into the sea of life, O gentle, loving, trusting wife, And safe from all adversity, Upon the bosom of that sea Thy comings and thy goings be!

For gentleness, and love, and trust, Prevail o'er angry wave and gust; And in the wreck of n.o.ble lives Something immortal still survives!

Thou, too, sail on, O s.h.i.+p of State!

Sail on, O Union, strong and great!

Humanity, with all its fears, With all its hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate!

We know what Master laid thy keel, What workman wrought thy ribs of steel, Who made each mast, and sail, and rope, What anvils rang, what hammers beat, In what a forge, and what a heat, Were shaped the anchors of thy hope.

Fear not each sudden sound and shock; 'T is of the wave, and not the rock; 'T is but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale.

In spite of rock and tempest roar, In spite of false lights on the sh.o.r.e, Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea.

Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee: Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee--are all with thee.

H. W. Longfellow.

CLx.x.xV.

THE NEGRO'S COMPLAINT.

Forced from home and all its pleasures, Afric's coast I left forlorn; To increase a stranger's treasures, O'er the raging billows borne.

Men from England bought and sold me, Paid my price in paltry gold; But though slave they have enrolled me, Minds are never to be sold.

Still in thought as free as ever, What are England's rights, I ask, Me from my delights to sever, Me to torture, me to task?

Fleecy locks and black complexion Cannot forfeit Nature's claim; Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same.

Why did all-creating Nature Make the plant for which we toil?

Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil.

Think, ye masters, iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards; Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords.

Is there, as ye sometimes tell us, Is there One who reigns on high?

Has He bid you buy and sell us, Speaking from His throne, the sky?

Ask Him, if your knotted scourges, Matches, blood-extorting screws, Are the means that duty urges Agents of His will to use?