Poems. Volume III / H. F. Gould [electronic text]

THE RISING MONUMENT.

RISE in thy solemn grandeur, calm and slow, As well befits thy purpose and thy place: Great Speaker! rise, not suddenly, to show The earth forever sacred at thy base.

Strong as the rocky frame-work of the globe, Proportioned fair, in altitude sublime, With freedom's glory round thee as a robe, Rise gently—then defy the power of time.

To future ages, from thy lofty site, Speak in thy mighty eloquence, and tell That where thou art, on Bunker's hallowed height, Our WARREN and his valiant brethren fell.

Say, it was here the vital current flowed, Purpling the turf, amid the mortal strife For man's great birthright, from the breasts, that glowed With love of country, more than love of life.

Thou hast thy growth of blood, that, gushing warm From patriot bosoms, set their spirits free: All, who behold, shall venerate thy form, And bow before thy genius, LIBERTY.

Here fell the hero and his brave compeers, Who fought and died to break a people's chain:

The place is sacred to Columbia's tears, Poured o'er the victims for a nation slain.

Yet from her starry brow a glory streams, Turning to gems those holy drops of grief, As after evening showers, the morn's clear beams Show diamonds hung on grass, and flower and leaf.

Upright and firrn, as were the patriot souls, That from thy native spot arose to God, Stand thou and hold, long as our planet rolls, This last high place by Freedom's martyrs trod.

Let thy majestic shadow walk the ground, Calm as the sun, and constant as his light; And by the moon, amid the dews, be found The sentinel, who guards it through the night.

And may the air around thee ever be To heaven-born Liberty as vital breath; But, like the breeze that sweeps the Upas tree, To Bondage and Oppression certain death!

A beauteous prospect spreads for thy survey; City and dome, and spire look up to thee: The solemn forest and the mountains gray Stand distant to salute thy majesty.

And ocean, in his numbers deep and strong, While the bright shore beneath thy ken he laves,

Will sing to thee an everlasting song Of freedom, with his never-conquered waves.

Rise then, and stand unshaken, till the skies Above thee are about to pass away; But, when the dead around thee are to rise, Melt in the burning splendors of the day!

For then will He, "whose right it is to reign," Who hath on earth a kingdom pure to save, Come with his angels, calling up the slain To freedom, and annihilate the grave.