John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892). The Poetical Works in Four Volumes. 1892.
Songs of Labor and ReformOur Country
W
O Country of our love and prayer!
Thy way is down no fatal slope,
But up to freer sun and air.
By God’s grace only stronger made,
In future tasks before thee set
Thou shalt not lack the old-time aid.
As wise, as true, and brave as they;
Why count the loss and not the gain?
The best is that we have to-day.
Within thy mighty bounds transpires,
With speed defying space and time
Comes to us on the accusing wires;
Thy homes of peace, thy votes unsold,
The love that pleads for human needs,
The wrong redressed, but half is told!
His acts, his words, his gallows-mood;
We know the single sinner well
And not the nine and ninety good.
We seem at times to doubt thy worth,
We know thee still, when all is said,
The best and dearest spot on earth.
Belted with flowers Los Angeles
Basks in the semi-tropic air,
To where Katahdin’s cedar trees
Thy plenty’s horn is yearly filled;
Alone, the rounding century finds
Thy liberal soil by free hands tilled.
Thy generous heart has borne the blame
That, with them, through thy open door,
The old world’s evil outcasts came.
And labor’s need and breadth of lands,
Free press and rostrum, church and school,
Thy sure, if slow, transforming hands
Making a blessing of the ban;
And Freedom’s chemistry combine
The alien elements of man.
And set the dusky millions free,
And welded in the flame of war
The Union fast to Liberty,
Redress the red man’s grievance, break
The Circean cup which shames and kills,
And Labor full requital make?
Thy civic honors bid them fall?
And call thy daughters forth to share
The rights and duties pledged to all?
Merge private greed in public good,
And spare a treasury overfull
The tax upon a poor man’s food?
No weakling founders builded here;
Thine were the men of Plymouth Rock,
The Huguenot and Cavalier;
The freedom of the souls of men,
Whose hands, unstained with blood, maintained
The swordless commonwealth of Penn.
To do the work which duty bids,
And make the people’s council hall
As lasting as the Pyramids!
Thy brave-said word a century back,
The pledge of human brotherhood,
The equal claim of white and black.
And all who hear it turn to thee,
And read upon thy flag unfurled
The prophecies of destiny.
The nations in thy school shall sit,
Earth’s farthest mountain-tops shall burn
With watch-fires from thy own uplit.
By fraud or conquest, rich in gold,
But richer in the large estate
Of virtue which thy children hold,
And strength to simple justice due,
So runs our loyal dream of thee;
God of our fathers! make it true.
Our prayers, our hopes, our service free;
For thee thy sons shall nobly live,
And at thy need shall die for thee!