Swept o'er the deep to Albion's genial isle,
Amazed they light amid the bloomy sprays
Of some green vale, there to enjoy new loves,
And join in harmony unheard before.
The land is groaning 'neath the guilt of blood Spilt wantonly for every death-doom'd man, Who, in his boyhood, has been left untaught That Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness, And all her paths are peace, unjustly dies. But, ah! how many are thus left untaught,How many would be left, but for the band United to keep holy to the Lord
A portion of his day, by teaching those
Whom Jesus loved with forth-stretch'd hand to
bless!
Behold yon motley train, by two and two,
Each with a Bible 'neath its little arm,
Approach well-pleased, as if they went to play,
The dome where simple lore is learnt unbought:
And mark the father 'mid the sideway throng;
Well do I know him by his glistening eye,
That follows steadfastly one of the line.
A dark seafaring man he looks to be;
And much it glads his boding heart to think,
That when once more he sails the vallied deep,
His child shall still receive Instruction's boon.
But hark, a noise,—a cry,—a gleam of swords!—
Resistance is in vain,-he's borne away,
Nor is allow'd to clasp his weeping child.
My innocent, so helpless, yet so gay!
How could I bear to be thus rudely torn
From thee;-to see thee lift thy little arm,
And impotently strike the ruffian man,—
To hear thee bid him chidingly-begone!
O ye who live at home, and kiss each eve
Your sleeping infants ere you go to rest,
And, 'wakened by their call, lift up your eyes
Upon their morning smile,—think, think of those,
Who, torn away without one farewell word
To wife or children, sigh the day of life
In banishment from all that's dear to man!-
O raise your voices in one general peal
Remonstrant, for the opprest.
And ye, who sit
Month after month devising impost-laws,
Give some small portion of your midnight vigils
To mitigate, if not remove, the wrong.
Relentless Justice! with fate-furrow'd brow! Wherefore to various crimes of various guilt, One penalty, the most severe, allot? Why, pall'd in state, and mitred with a wreath Of nightshade, dost thou sit portentously, Beneath a cloudy canopy of sighs,
Of fears, of trembling hopes, of boding doubts! Death's dart thy mace!-Why are the laws of God,
Statutes promulged in characters of fire,*
Despised in deep concerns, where heavenly guid
Is most required? The murderer-let him die,
And him who lifts his arm against his parent,
His country,-or his voice against his God.
Let crimes less heinous dooms less dreadful meet
Than loss of life! so said the law divine;
That law beneficent, which mildly stretch'd,
To men forgotten and forlorn, the hand
Of restitution: Yes, the trumpet's voice
The Sabbath of the jubilee † announced :
"And it came to pass on the third day in the morning, that there were thunders and lightnings, and a thick cloud upon the Mount, and the voice of the trumpet exceeding loud; so that all the people that was in the camp trembled." Exod. xix. 16.
+ "And thou shalt number seven Sabbaths of years unto thee, seven times seven years; and the space of the seven Sabbaths of years shall be unto thee forty and nine years.
The freedom-freighted blast, through all the land
At once, in every city, echoing rings,
From Lebanon to Carmel's woody cliffs,
So loud, that far within the desert's verge
The couching lion starts, and glares around.
Free is the bondman now, each one returns
To his inheritance: The man, grown old
In servitude far from his native fields,
Hastes joyous on his way: no hills are steep,
Smooth is each rugged path; his little ones
Sport as they go, while oft the mother chides
The lingering step, lured by the way-side flowers:
At length the hill, from which a farewell look,
And still another parting look, he cast
On his paternal vale, appears in view :
The summit gain'd, throbs hard his heart with joy And sorrow blent, to see that vale once more : Instant his eager eye darts to the roof
Where first he saw the light: his youngest born
He lifts, and, pointing to the much-loved spot,
Says, "There thy fathers lived, and there they
sleep."
Onward he wends; near and more near he draws:
How sweet the tinkle of the palm-bower'd brook!
The sun-beam slanting through the cedar-grove
How lovely, and how mild! But lovelier still
The welcome in the eye of ancient friends,
Scarce known at first! and dear the fig-tree shade
'Neath which on Sabbath eve his father told *
Then shalt thou cause the trumpet of the jubilee to sound on the tenth day of the seventh month; in the day of atonement shall ye make the trumpet sound throughout all your land. And ye shall hallow the fiftieth year, and proclaim liberty throughout all the land unto all the inhabitants thereof: it shall be a jubilee unto you; and ye shall return every man unto his possession, and ye shall return every man unto his family." Lev. xxv. 8, 9, 10.
"And these words which I command thee this day shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto
Of Israel from the house of bondage freed,
Led through the desert to the promised land ;-
With eager arms the aged stem he clasps,
And with his tears the furrow'd bark bedews:
And still, at midnight hour, he thinks he hears
The blissful sound that brake the bondman's
chains,
The glorious peal of freedom and of joy!
Did ever law of man a power like this
Display? power marvellous as merciful,
Which, though in other ordinances still
Most plainly seen, is yet but little mark'd
For what it truly is,—a miracle!
Stupendous, ever new, perform'd at once
In every region,-yea, on every sea
Which Europe's navies plough ;—yes, in all lands From pole to pole, or civilized or rude,
People there are, to whom the Sabbath morn
Dawns, shedding dews into their drooping hearts :
Yes, far beyond the high-heaved western wave;
Amid Columbia's wildernesses vast,
The words which God in thunder from the Mount
Of Sinai spake, are heard, and are obey'd.
Thy children, Scotia, in the desert land,
Driven from their homes by fell Monopoly,
Keep holy to the Lord the seventh day.
Assembled under loftiest canopy
Of trees primeval, soon to be laid low,
They sing, By Babel's streams we sat and wept.
What strong mysterious links enchain the heart
To regions where the morn of life was spent!
In foreign lands, though happier be the clime,
thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. Thou shalt say unto thy son, We were Pharaoh's bondmen in Egypt; and the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand."Deut. vi. 6, 7. 21.
Though round our board smile all the friends we
The face of nature wears a stranger's look:
Yea, though the valley which we loved be swept
Of its inhabitants, none left behind,
Not even the poor blind man who sought his bread
From door to door, still, still there is a want:
Yes, even he, round whom a night that knows
No dawn is ever spread, whose native vale
Presented to his closed eyes a blank,
Deplores its distance now. There well he knew
Each object, though unseen; there could he wend
His way, guideless, through wilds and mazy woods;
Each aged tree, spared when the forest fell,
Was his familiar friend, from the smooth birch,
With rind of silken touch, to the rough elm :
The three grey stones that mark'd where heroes
lay,
Mourn'd by the harp, mourn'd by the melting voice
Of Cona, oft his resting-place had been;
Oft had they told him that his home was near:
The tinkle of the rill, the murmuring
So gentle of the brook, the torrent's rush,
The cataract's din, the ocean's distant roar,
The echo's answer to his foot or voice,-
All spoke a language which he understood,
All warn'd him of his way. But most he feels,
Upon the hallow'd morn, the saddening change:
No more he hears the gladsome village bell
Ring the blest summons to the house of God:
And for the voice of psalms, loud, solemn, grand,
That cheer'd his darkling path, as with slow step
And feeble, he toiled up the spire-topt hill,-
A few faint notes ascend among the trees.
What though the cluster'd vine there hardly tempts
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