The hot words from your lips, my own, To caution trained, might not repeat; But if some tares among the wheat Of generous thought and deed were sown, No common wrong provoked your zeal; The silken gauntlet that is thrown In such a quarrel rings like steel. The brave old strife the fathers saw For Freedom calls for men again Like those who battled not in vain For England’s Charter, Alfred’s law; And right of speech and trial just Wage in your name their ancient war With venal courts and perjured trust. * * * * * _God’s ways seem dark, but soon or late, They touch the shining hills of day; The evil cannot brook delay, The good can well afford to wait. Give ermined knaves their hour of crime; Ye have the future grand and great, The safe appeal of Truth to Time!_ [The End] FOOTNOTES: [A] The rule of the civil law _partus sequitur ventrem_, formerly prevailed in re domestic slavery.--_1 Dall. 167._ [B] Kinzey’s. TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: Text in italics is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Christiana Riot and The Treason Trials of 1851, by W. U. Hensel