« ZurückWeiter »
« THE ONE IDEA."
BY SARAH JANE CLARKE.
“ We hold these truths to be self evident; that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness
Our glorious one Idea !
From the source of life it came, And it shineth far and mounteth high,
An ever living flame.
Then let it burn! what mortal hand
Its fiery wing shall bind ? For it hath reached the moral wastes,
The prairies of the mind !
Our wives, our girls, of « One Idea !".
In each devoted mind
Like a deity enshrined.
Cloistered in gloom and night, Their life is like a morn in May,
Flowers, dew, and warm sunlight:
The dew of generous love,
Which cometh from above.
Which true-soul freedom brings, That earnest, searless, fervent faith,
In all good, blessed things!
That worship of the truth,
Immortal bloom and youth.
Rank's vain distinctions lie, They could stand before a crowned queen
And look her in the eye,
It sweepeth off the wild, rank growth
of prejudice and wrong, As, fanned by mighty viewless wings,
It rolls and leaps along !
Our men are men of « One Idea !"
Ah, thou must elsewhere turn For gloomy and unsocial churls,
Ascetics hard and stern
MASSACHUSETTS TO VIRGINIA.
Written on reading an accouni of the proceedings of the citizens of Norfolk, (Va.) in reference to Gerce I ATIYER, the alleged fugitive slave, the result of whose case in Massachusetts will probably be similar to that of the negro SOMERSET in England, in 1772.
EY JOHN G. WHITTIER.
The blast from Freedom's northern hills, upon its Southern way,
No trains of deep-mouthed cannon along our highways go-
We hear thy threats, Virginia! thy stormy words and high
Wild are the waves which lash the reefs along St. George's bank,
The cold North light, and wintry sun glare on their icy forms,
What means the Old Dominion? Hath she forgot the day.
Forgets she how the Bay State, in answer to the call
What asks the Old Dominion? If now her sons have proved
We hunt your bondmen, flying from Slavery's hateful hell--
Thank God! not yet so vilely can Massachusetts bow,
All that a sister State should do, all that a free State may,
Hold, while ye may, your struggling slaves, and burden God's free air
Still shame your gallant ancestry, the cavaliers of old,
Lower than plummet soundeth, sink the Virginian name;
A voice from lips whereon the coal from Freedom's shrine hath been,
And when the prowling man-thief came hunting for his prey
A hundred thousand right arms were lifted up on high,
The voice of free, broad Middlesex-of thousands as of one-
From rich and rural Worcester, where through the calm repose
And sandy Barnstable rose up, wet with the salt sea spray-
The voice of Massachusetts! Of her free sons and daughters-
Look to it well, Virginians! In calmness we have borne,
THE BRANDED HAND.
BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.
In 1836, Capt. Jonathan Walker, a citizen of Massachusetts, removed wi his family to Florida, and in that territory resided till 1842, when he returned to his native State. During his residence at the South, he hired, but never owned slaves—and while they were in his employ, he treated them as our Northern farmers and mechanics are accustomed to treat their laborers-recognizing their rights as men, instead of regarding them as " chattels personal.” While this course won the confidence and good will of the slaves, it was anything but agreeable to the slaveholders.
In pursuance of his lawful business, Captain Walker visited Pensacola, in the month of June, 1844. While there, seven men-the same, we understand, who had worked for him during his residence in Florida-applied to him for a passage 10 Nassau, where they might enjoy that Liberty which is the inalienable right of all. Captain Walker, in obedience to the great law of humanity, received them on board his vessel-a small, open boat--and proceeded along the coast, towards the destined haven. Exposed to the broiling sun, Capt. Walker was soon taken sick, and continued very ill for many days. On the 8th of July, when off Cape Florida, they were discovered by a wrecker, which took them all captive--as clear an act of piracy as was ever commitied upon the high seas. They were taken into Key West, where Capt. Walker was thrust into jail, loaded with double irons--thence he was conveyed in the hold of a United States vessel, to Pensacola, where he was examined before a magistrale and committed to prison in default of $10,000 bail. Though greatly emaciated, and in feeble health, he was thrust into a cell unsupplied with either chair, table, or bed, and was chained to the Noor. No physician was sent him, and no attention wbatever was paid to his enfeebled condition. Here he remained till the following November, when he was taken before the United States Court, tried and convicted upon four indictments, for aiding the escape of slaves, and sentenced to pay a fine of $150, stand in the pillory one hour, be branded with the letters S. S. (slave stealer) on the right hand, and suffer imprisonment fifteen days. The whole sentence was carried into execution—the branding, was done by binding his hand 10 a post, and applying a red hot iron to the palm, which left the letters an inch long and about an eighth of an inch deep. The branding was performed by a recreant yankee from Maine, whose name is Donn. Let it be embalmed in eternal infamy. Afier ihe fifteen days of imprisonmnet had expired, he was retained in consequence of inability to pay the fine and costs of court, amounting to something over $100. On the 6th of February last, while yet in prison, three more indictments were found against him for aiding slaves to escape. On the 9th of May he was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to pay a fine of $5 on each offence. This was the smallest sum the law would allow, and Capt. Walker returned his thanks to the Jury for their leniency. On the 16th of June he was liberated by the assistance of friends, who paid ihe tine, and on the 10th of July last arrived in New York.”
Welcome home again, brave seaman! with thy thoughtful brow and gray,
Is the tyrant's brand upon thee? Did the brutal cravens aim
They change to wrong, the duty which God hath written out
Why, that brand is highest honor!-than its traces never yet
As the Templar home was welcomed, bearing back from Syrian wars,
For, while the jurist sitting with the slave-whip o'er him swang,