Then hail, Columbia’s gifted son, Pride of our glorious Drama, hail! Thou deeply wronged and injured one, Let not thy hope or courage fail. Though perjury seek thy name to blight, And venomed tongues with envy rail, The truth, in all its lustre bright, ’Gainst heartless fops shall yet prevail. M. C. TO EDWIN FORREST. May I, in this gay masquerade of thought, When crowds will seek thee, With gay devices curiously wrought, And love-words greet thee, Bestow the offering of an earnest soul, Though it be vain As to Niagara’s eternal roll The drops of summer rain! A thought of thee dwells ever in my heart And haunts my brain, And tears unbidden to mine eyelids start Whene’er I hear thy name. Yet ’tis no love-thought,—no impassioned dream Of wild unrest Quickening my pulses when with earnest beam Thine eyes upon me rest. But something deeper, holier far than this,— A mournful thought Of all the sorrow and the loneliness With which thy life is fraught,— Of thy great, noble heart, so rudely torn From the deep trust of years,— Of the proud laurels which thy brow has worn, Dim with the rust of tears; Of wrongs and treachery in the princely home Thy genius earned; Thy hearth made desolate, thy pathway lone, Thy heart’s deep worship spurned; Thy manly prayer for justice coldly met With mocking jeers, The seal of exile on thy forehead set For all thy coming years. Most deeply injured! yet unshaken still Amid the storm, Thy soul leans calmly on its own high will And waits the coming morn. And all pure hearts are with thee, and beat high To know at last The world will scan thee with unbiassed eye, Revoking all the past. CELIA. A fortnight after the close of the trial, Forrest began a new engagement at the Broadway Theatre.