The American Union SpeakerPhilbrick, John D. (John Dudley)
General
The American Union Speaker
Philbrick, John D. (John Dudley)
Recitations
No tomb shall e'er plead to remembrance for thee,
Or redeem form or frame from the merciless surge;
But the white foam of waves shall thy winding-sheet be,
And winds in the midnight of winter thy dirge.
On beds of green sea-flower thy limbs shall be laid;
Around thy white bones the red coral shall grow;
Of thy fair yellow locks threads of amber be made,
And every part suit to thy mansion below.
Days, months, years, and ages shall circle away,
And still the vast waters above thee shall roll;
Earth loses thy pattern forever and aye--
O sailor-boy! sailor-boy! peace to thy soul!
Dimond.
CCXXXII.
ON THE ENTRY OF THE AUSTRIANS INTO NAPLES.
Ay, down to the dust with them, slaves as they are!
From this hour let the blood in their dastardly veins,
That shrunk from the first touch of Liberty's war,
Be sucked out by tyrants or stagnate in chains!
On--on, like a cloud, through their beautiful vales,
Ye locusts of tyranny!--blasting them o'er:
Fill--fill up their wide, sunny waters, ye sails,
From each slave-mart in Europe, and poison their shore.
May their fate be a mockword--may men of all lands
Laugh out with a scorn that shall ring to the poles,
When each sword that the cowards let fall from their hands,
Shall be forged into fetters to enter their souls!
And deep, and more deep, as the iron is driven,
Base slaves! may the whet of their agony be,
To think--as the damned haply think of the heaven
They had once in their reach,--that they might have been free.
Shame! shame! when there was not a bosom whose heat
Ever rose o'er the zero of Castlereagh's heart,
That did not, like Echo, your war-hymn repeat,
And send back its prayers with your Liberty's start!
Good God! that in such a proud moment of life,
Worth ages of history--when, had you but hurled
One bolt at your bloody invader, that strife
Between freemen and tyrants had spread through the world!
That then--O, disgrace upon manhood! e'en then
You should falter--should cling to your pitiful breath,
Cower down into beasts, when you might have stood men,
And prefer a slave's life to a glorious death!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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