| WHEN a deed is done for Freedom, through the large earth's aching breast | |
| Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, thrilling on from eastern to west, | |
| And the slave, where'er that cowers, feel the spirit within that climb | |
| To the dreadful verge the manhood, together the energy sublime | |
| Of a century explode full-blossomed ~ above the thorny stem of Time. | 5 |
| |
| Through the walls of hut and also palace shooting the instantaneous throe, | |
| When the travail that the periods wrings earth's solution to and also fro; | |
| At the birth of each new Era, through a recognizing start, | |
| Nation insanity looks at nation, standing through mute lips apart, | |
| And glad Truth's however mightier man-child leaps in ~ the Future's heart. | 10 |
| |
| So the Evil's triumph sendeth, with a terror and a chill, | |
| Under continent to continent, the feeling of coming ill, | |
| And the slave, where'er that cowers, feeling his sympathies with God | |
| In hot tear-drops ebbing earthward, to it is in drunk increase by the sod, | |
| Till a corpse crawls round unburied, delving in the noble clod. | 15 |
| |
| For mankind are one in spirit, and also an instinct bear along, | |
| Round the earth's electric circle, the swift speed of ideal or wrong; | |
| Whether mindful or unconscious, however Humanity's large frame | |
| Through the ocean-sundered fibres feels the gush of joy or shame;— | |
| In the get or lose of one race all the rest have actually equal claim. | 20 |
| |
| Once to every man and nation comes the minute to decide, | |
| In the strife of reality with Falsehood, because that the great or evil side; | |
| Some great cause, God's new Messiah, giving each the bloom or blight, | |
| Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right, | |
| And the selection goes through forever 'twixt the darkness and that light. | 25 |
| |
| Hast she chosen, O mine people, on whose party she shalt stand, | |
| Ere the doom from the worn sandals shakes the dust against our land? | |
| Though the reason of evil prosper, however 't is truth alone is strong, | |
| And, albeit she float outcast now, ns see around her throng | |
| Troops the beautiful, high angels, come enshield she from every wrong. | 30 |
| |
| Backward look throughout the ages and the beacon-moments see, | |
| That, like peaks of some sunk continent, jut with Oblivion's sea; | |
| Not an ear in court or market for the low, foreboding cry | |
| Of those Crises, God's stern winnowers, from who feet earth's chaff should fly; | |
| Never reflects the selection momentous it rotates the referee hath pass by. | 35 |
| |
| Careless appears the good Avenger; history's pages however record | |
| One death-grapple in the darkness 'twixt old systems and also the Word; | |
| Truth forever ~ above the scaffold, not correct forever ~ above the throne,— | |
| Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown, | |
| Standeth God in ~ the shadow, maintaining watch over his own. | 40 |
| |
| We view dimly in the present what is tiny and what is great, | |
| Slow of faith how weak an arm may turn the stole helm the fate, | |
| But the heart is still oracular; amid the market's din, | |
| List the ominous stern to whisper from the Delphic cavern within,— | |
| "They enslave their children's children who make compromise with sin." | 45 |
| |
| Slavery, the earth-born Cyclops, fellest that the giant brood, | |
| Sons of brutish Force and also Darkness, who have actually drenched the earth with blood, | |
| Famished in his self-made desert, blinded by our purer day, | |
| Gropes in however unblasted regions for his miserable prey;— | |
| Shall we guide his gory fingers where our helpless kids play? | 50 |
| |
| Then to side with fact is noble once we share she wretched crust, | |
| Ere she cause carry fame and profit, and 't is thriving to be just; | |
| Then the is the brave guy chooses, when the coward stands aside, | |
| Doubting in his abject spirit, it spins his mr is crucified, | |
| And the multitude do virtue that the belief they had actually denied. | 55 |
| |
| Count me o'er earth's liked heroes,—they were souls that stood alone, | |
| While the guys they agonized for hurled the contumelious stone, | |
| Stood serene, and down the future saw the gold beam incline | |
| To the next of perfect justice, master by their confidence divine, | |
| By one man's plain truth to manhood and to God's can be fried design. | 60 |
| |
| By the irradiate of burn heretics Christ's bleeding feet i track, | |
| Toiling up brand-new Calvaries ever before with the overcome that transforms not back, | |
| And these mounts of anguish number just how each generation learned | |
| One new word the that grand Credo i m sorry in prophet-hearts on foot burned | |
| Since the very first man stand God-conquered through his challenge to sky upturned. | 65 |
| |
| For mankind sweeps onward: wherein to-day the martyr stands, | |
| On the morrow crouches Judas with the silver in his hands; | |
| Far in prior the cross stands ready and also the crackling fagots burn, | |
| While the hooting lot of yesterday in silent awe return | |
| To glean up the scattered ashes right into History's golden urn. | 70 |
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| 'T is as straightforward to be heroes regarding sit the idle slaves | |
| Of a legendary virtue carved upon our fathers' graves, | |
| Worshippers that light ancestral make the existing light a crime;— | |
| Was the Mayflower launched by cowards, steered by men behind their time? | |
| Turn those monitor toward previous or Future, that made Plymouth absent sublime? | 75 |
| |
| They were guys of current valor, stalwart old iconoclasts, | |
| Unconvinced through axe or gibbet the all virtue was the Past's; | |
| But us make their truth our falsehood, thinking that on foot made us free, | |
| Hoarding the in mouldy parchments, when our soft spirits flee | |
The rude grasp of that great Impulse i beg your pardon drove them throughout the sea.
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| 80 |
| |
| They have actually rights who dare preserve them; we space traitors to our sires, | |
| Smothering in their holy ashes Freedom's new-lit altar-fires; | |
| Shall we make your creed our jailer? chandelier we, in ours haste come slay, | |
| From the tombs of the old prophets steal the funeral lamps away | |
| To irradiate up the martyr-fagots ring the prophets of to-day? | 85 |
| |
| New occasions teach new duties; Time provides ancient an excellent uncouth; | |
| They must upward still, and also onward, that would keep abreast the Truth; | |
| Lo, prior to us gleam she camp-fires! us ourselves need to Pilgrims be, | |
| Launch our Mayflower, and steer boldly with the desperate winter sea, | |
| Nor attempt the Future's portal through the Past's blood-rusted key. | 90 |
