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FORWARD!

FORWARD!

BY REV. JOHN PIERPONT.

GOD, to the human soul,

And all the spheres that roll,

Wrapped by his Spirit in their robes of light,
Hath said: "The primal plan

Of all the world, and man,

Is Forward! Progress is your law

The despots of the earth,

Since Freedom had her birth,

your right."

Have to their subject nations said, "Stand still;" So, from the Polar Bear,

Comes down the freezing air,

And stiffens all things with its deadly chill.

Would

He who doth God resist

God's old antagonist

snap the chain that binds all things to him; And in his godless pride,

All peoples would divide,

And scatter even the choirs of seraphim.

God, all the orbs that roll

Binds to one common goal

All races would he bind,

Till every man in man a brother own.

Tyrants with tyrants league,
Corruption and intrigue

To strangle infant Liberty conspire.
Around her cradle, then,

Let self-devoted men

Gather, and keep unquenched her vital fire.

When Tyranny, grown bold,

To Freedom's host cries, "Hold!

Ye towards her temple at your peril march ;' "Stop," that great host replies,

Raising to heaven its eyes,

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"Stop, first, the host that moves across yon arch!”

When Tyranny commands,

"Hold thou my victim's hands, While I more firmly rivet on his chains, Or with my bowie-knife,

I'll take your craven life,

Or show my streets bespattered with your brains."

Freedom, with forward tread,
Unblenching, turns her head,

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THE PARTING.

And drawing from its sheath her flashing glave,
Calmly makes answer: "Dare

Touch of my head one hair,

I'll cut the cord that holds your every slave!"

I

THE PARTING.

AM sitting, idly sitting, where the twilight shades are flitting,

And the memory of the past is drawing round me like a spell;

Breathes the last tones of the nearest, the fondest and the dearest,

Still within my ear in a tremulous farewell.

And that many lengths may crumble from the lengthening chain of time,

Ere my lips may feel thy pressing, or my hair the light caressing

That have thrilled my heart with rapture, and a love almost sublime.

THE PARTING.

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Ah, our lives have twined together like the vines in sunny wreaths,

And we never thought to part till death should break the chain

With which golden love had bound us, waving like a halo round us

Every thought and every feeling, grasping joys, ignoring pain.

Yet, thou 'rt gone!-thy country calls thee! Faction's stormy cloud enthralls thee,

And I never more may look into the blue depths of thine eyes,

Never hear thy loud voice stealing, with its rich, deep freight of feeling,

On my ear in gentle murmurs as the evening glory dies.

Life seems 'reft of every beauty; I have scarce a heart for duty,

As I sit here thinking, thinking of thee, darling,

far away.

Tears are falling fast and faster

no dire disaster

Heaven grant

May make the gloom eternal that is on my heart

to-day!

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THE PARTING.

Yet, in all my pain and sorrow, could I call thee back to-morrrow,

Dear, my lips should never breathe the words to hasten thy return:

Though I sit so sadly sobbing, with a heart so wildly throbbing,

I could never quench the sparks that on thy bosom's altar burn.

No! our hearts may wander darkling - still I see the diamond sparkling

Of the star that yet shall dawn to bid us hope for peace once more;

And my soul leaps e'en in sadness, like an infant in its gladness,

To think how proud I'll greet thee when the bloody strife is o'er.

I'll not think of death and slaughter, tinged with blood the crystal water

Of the purling streams that murmur through the forests of our land,

But of banners proudly streaming where the campfires now are gleaming,

Hear the rallying shout of millions peal from Freedom's fearless band!