Have you marked and trenched the ground, Ere the victor can be crowned ? From your hearths, and homes, and altars, Hush! The hour of fate is nigh, Forward! We will do or die. G. Hnilton With one heart and with one mouth, J. G. Whittier. CCCXXXI. THE WATCHERS. BESIDE a stricken field I stood; On the torn turf, on grass and wood, Hung heavily the dew of blood. Still in their fresh mounds lay the slain, Two angels, each with drooping head The one with forehead saintly bland The other's brows were scarred and knit, "How long!" I knew the voice of Peace, "O Lord, how long! - One human soul Is more than any parchment scroll, Or any flag thy winds unroll. "What price was Ellsworth's, young and brave? How weigh the gift that Lyon gave, Or count the cost of Winthrop's grave? "O brother! if thine eye can see, Then Freedom sternly said: "I shun "I knelt with Ziska's hunted flock, "The Moor of Marston felt my tread, Through Jersey snows the march I led, My voice Magenta's charges sped. "But now, through weary day and night, "On either side my foe they own: One guards through love his ghastly throne, And one through fear to reverence grown. "Why wait we longer, mocked, betrayed, By open foes, or those afraid To speed thy coming through my aid? "Nay," Peace implored: "yet longer wait; The doom is near, the stake is great; "Still wait and watch; the way prepare Where I with folded wings of prayer May follow, weaponless and bare." |