"And holy light to see divine.

On thee now falls the blessed ray

Which gilds my shield, and naught shall stay

My onward march, until the day I love shall here in glory shine.

"Thee have I called, like John of old, Who the dear Savior's course forerun,. And thee baptize my holy son,

With fire, in name of Holy One.
Now here within my hand I hold

"What the great John of Patmos said
Should be in time outpoured on earth,-
Vials of wrath;- their deadly worth
Is needed now,- for fierce from birth
The serpent old holds high his head.

"Into this vial now I put the tears,

Which loving wives and children shed
In Kansas, o'er their murdered dead.
Here is a lock of hair from head
Of Sumner, with fresh blood it bears;—

"Here is the blood of murdered Dow,
Barber, Brown, 38

brave;

Jones, 39 and Stewart

Five sons of mine now in their

grave,

This pang their passing spirits gave

And cried in woe: Make Treason bow!'

"Here is the anguish of their hearts

Which through my drooping spirit runs;Here are the groans these dying sons Have left, and prayers for darling ones, And kiss while ebbing life departs;

"Here the torn flesh and bloody scars,

And damning insult Phillips stood;From Butler's craft a piece of wood;Here is a drop of virgin blood Ravished by fiends beneath my stars;

"The ashes here of Lawrence, there

The type of press, the drunken glee,-
The dust from trail of Treason see;-
Here is the bullet shot at me,
And here the slimy serpent's glare.

"These 'Bogus' votes you see were cast
By ruffian hordes, and these their rags;-
Here the ruffian words on flags;—
Here the hoarse laugh while Justice lags,
And here the 'Bogus Laws' at last.

"All these into this vial go!

Now soak, and shake, and let distill.
Behold another one I fill !

Here from the sword of Bunker Hill
Drops the base blood of foreign foe;-

"Here is the sigh which Warren gave,
As his sweet spirit passed on high;-
Here the keen glance of Putnam's eye;-
Here Franklin's thought; and here the cry
Of Henry: Freedom or the grave!'

"Here the patriot pen of Paine,

And here the deeds of Washington;-
Here are his battles lost and won;
And here the dust of every son
Of mine who in that cause was slain;-

"Here the swift shaft which Jackson sent
Full at the front of Treason;— here
The hot words which Tallmadge, dear
And grand to every freeman's ear,
Hurled back at Cobb, and fatal went. 4o

"This is enough.

This vial keep;

For you will need the lighter drink

When Death shall take you home; nor sink
Beneath the awful thought; nor think
The draught not good; for your last sleep

"Shall come and pass in awful form;

And you shall heave the broken sigh,
And grandly on the scaffold die,-
Then with the patriots you shall lie,
Unmindful of the passing storm.

"But here, this darker drink now quaff!"
This then she handed him, and Brown
Arose and said: "The thorny crown
I wear, nor do I seek renown,
The stormy path I tread, thy staff

"Supports me now;"-and then he drank.
This now infused all fear forsook,
And all his vital spirits shook.
Then opened he the Holy Book,
And said: "Great Author, Thee I thank

"For counsels in my hour of need:

'An eye for eye, and tooth for tooth,'
This is no fond, no gentle ruth,

No smooth, gilt-edged or varnished truth
Within this book I find my creed; 41

"Its counsels wise shall guide my feet.

'Tis written here in holy word:

'Christ came not peace to bring, but sword,To Him I bow, as my great Lord. His truth is ample and complete."

This said, the goddess took her flight,
And back on sable wing she sped,
With flashing halo round her head,—
By fair Columbia's hand was led
Through all the glittering train of Night.

Great soul inspired! whet now thy sword,-
Not in revenge, but to protect

The land, where Freedom may erect

Her home; where safely her elect May come and live in sweet accord.

This is the land where first began
The holy work in Virtue's cause,-
Where men demanded righteous laws
And justice unto all,-here was
The sword once more unsheathed for man.

Not like the sword of cherubim,

Who stood of old at Eden's gate,
To guard the path against those great
First trespassers on God's estate
In earth, as sung in holy hyın;—

That was a flaming sword of fire,

Drawn by ghostly hand, and could
Not stand the test of steel, nor should

We deem it more than that which would

In rain or weeping dew expire;—

But here on holy Kansas soil,

Stout hearts, and kind and true, were made To seek the virtue of a blade,

Keen as old Damascus, which stayed

The march of ravenous fiends of spoil.