OCR Text |
Show 86 A son of free America-amidst those titled knaves, He answers Austria's haughty prince--' JJly trade is in my SLAVES!' A smile of mockery and joy o'er each stem visage steals, As the answer of our countryman a kindred soul reveals ; The bosom-friends of Metternich-the tyrant of the times, They Ttate our blessings, but they /olJC our follies and our crimes. Shame rest upon our countrymen, who in their wan· derings claim Companionship with tyranny-by kindred deeds of shame. America a mockery! a strengthener tv the hands Of robbery and wrong, and crime in less e nlightened lands! Where the fires on Freedom's altars, with feeble flickerings burn ; The hearts that light at\d nurse them there, to us for guidance turn. Millions of Freedom's children, of every clime aud name, \Vatch anxiously the western world, aucl glory iu our fame. The guide of nations ! shall our path so blind and erring be, That hope must die , whcrc'cr a heart is burn ing to be free 7 'l'HE PRISONER FOR DEB'l'. ,Cnst down, great God, the fanes, That, to unhallowed gains, Round us han~ l·iscnTcmples, whose priesthood pore i\t o£cs and Jesus o'er- Then bolt the poor man's prison.-PIERPO~T. LooK on him-through his dungeon grate, F eebly and cold, the mornin" liuht C . " 0 orne~ s~calmg rol1nd him, dim and late, As tf 1t loathed the siuht R~clining on his strawy ~be~l, Hts hand upholds his drooping headHis bloodless cheek is seamed and hard Unshorn his gray, neglected beard; • And o'er his bony fingers flow His long dishevelled locks of snow. No grate ful fire before him glows,And yet the winter's breath is chill : And o'er his half-clad person goes The frequent ague-thrill ! |