O, strange to relate! all that visage of hate, Which wore such a fearful expression of late, Grew gentle and mild as the face of a child, Ere the springs of its life have with doubt been defiled. And a voice, soft and low as a rivulet’s flow, Said gently, “I was but in seeming your foe. Man ever will find, in himself or his kind, Either evil or good, as he makes up his mind. “As God is in all, so he answered your call, And the evil appearance to you is let fall. This truth I commend to your soul as a friend, That evil will _all_ change to good in the end.” Then Jonathan Myer sat _alone_ by his fire, Till he saw the last light from the embers expire, And he thoughtfully said, as he turned toward his bed, “I will banish all hate and put love in its stead.” “I will _do_, and not _dream_--I will _be_, and not _seem_, And the triumph of goodness I’ll take for my theme. Great Spirit above! I have learned through thy love, That the Serpent has uses as well as the Dove.” JOHN ENDICOTT. “If ye love me, keep my commandments.”--JESUS. TRUTH hath no need of outward sign, To hold her calm, resistless sway-- No symbol, howsoe’er divine, Can rule the conscience of to-day. And he who, scorning praise or blame, Stays not to kneel before the cross, But serves the Truth through flood and flame, Shall win the crown, nor suffer loss. Back to the old heroic Past, With reverent hearts, our gaze we turn-- From souls proved faithful to the last, A lesson for to-day we learn. Once more, as from a master’s hand, Upon life’s canvass glows the scene-- Once more behold that little band Of valiant men on Salem green. Had they not left the friends of youth, Their childhood’s home, their fathers’ graves, That they might worship God in truth, And be no more a tyrant’s slaves? Still followed fast the royal wrath; And as they marched with measured tread, Casting its shadow o’er their path, The tyrant’s flag waved over head. “Halt!” said the brave John Endicott, With knitted brow and eyes aflame; “Halt!--Forward! Ensign Davenport! Down with that flag! in God’s high name!” Down drooped the flag, whose folds of blood Seemed like the Parcæ’s web of fate, Whereon the cross so long had stood For tyranny in Church and State. He raised his hand, and sternly tore The red cross from its field of blue; Then nerved with fire his arm upbore, And held the fragment full in view. “Now by the homage that we pay To God the Father, God the Son, May righteous Heaven approve this day The deed that my right hand hath done.”