And paved his way with loyal trust. He was their strongest, noblest man,-- Sworn foe of every selfish lust, And brave to do as wise to plan, And swift to judge as pure and just. VIII. Against such foil the mistress stood-- A pearl upon a cross of gold-- White with consistent womanhood, And fixed with unrelaxing hold Upon the centre of the rood! Through all those years of loving thrift, Nor blame nor discord marred their lot; Each to the lover-life was gift; And each was free from blur or blot That called for silence or for shrift. Each bore the burden that it held With patient hands along the road; And though, with passing years, it swelled Until it grew a weary load, Nor tongue complained, nor heart rebelled. At length the time of trial came, And they were tried as gold is tried. Their peace of life went up in flame, And what was good was vilified, And what was blameless came to blame. IX. The Southern sky was dun with cloud; And looming lurid o'er its edge The brows of awful forms were bowed, That forged in flame the fateful wedge Which waited in the angry shroud The banner of the storm unfurled, And all the powers of death arrayed In black battalions, to be hurled Down through the rack--a blazing blade-- To cleave the realm, and shake the world! The North was full of nameless dread; Wild portents flamed from out the pole; Old scars on Freedom's bosom bled, And sick at heart and vexed of soul She tossed in fever on her bed! Pale Commerce hid her face and whined; The arms of Toil were paralyzed; The wise were of divided mind, And those who counselled and advised Were sightless leaders of the blind. Men lost their faith in good and great; No captain sprang, or prophet bard, To win their trust, and save the state From the wild storm that, like a pard, On quivering haunches lay in wait! The loyal only were not brave; E'en peace became a cringing dog; The patriot paltered like a knave, And partisan anti demagogue Quarrelled o'er Freedom's waiting grave. X. Amid the turmoil and disgrace, The voice was clear from first to last, Of one who, in the desert place Of barren counsels, held him fast His shepherd's crook, and made it mace To bear before the Great Event Whose harbinger he chose to be, And called on all men to repent, And build a way from sea to sea, For Freedom's full enfranchisement. For Philip, to his conscience leal, Conceived that God had chosen him With Treason's sophistries to deal, And grapple with the Anakim Whose menace shook the common weal. His pulpit smoked beneath his blows; His voice was heard in hall and street; A thousand friends became his foes, And pews were empty or replete, With passion's ebbs and overflows.