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Table of Contents: Cover Page Dedication Introduction "America" "Christmas Hymn" "Lines on the Death of J. Quincy Adams" "To Cinque" "New Year's Hymn" "To A.H." "Love" "How Long" "The Arch Apostate" "The Misanthropist" "A Hymn" "Yes! strike again that sounding string" "To -------" "Prayer of the Oppressed" "To S.A.T." "Delusive Hope" "To M.E.A." "A Hymn" "Self-Reliance" "Ode for the Fourth of July" "Midnight Musings" "Ode to Music" "Stanzas for the First of August" "The North Star" (text of all poems) |
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THE gloomy night has cast a shroud Upon the dwelling-place of men; Hushed are the voices of the crowd, And silence reigns o’er hill and glen. My winged fancy takes its flight Through the unfathomed dark abyss, And rends the vail of somber night From many scenes of woe and bliss. |
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I enter first the poor man’s cot; The sick wife, on her straw-made bed, Reflects upon her lowly lot, While piercing pains distract her head; The famished children’s cries for bread Are issued in such piteous tones, The father hangs his drooping head, To hear his wife and children’s moans. The eyes of all that meager train Turned upon him to seek relief: The thought o’erwhelms his burning brain With silent but expressive grief. Near to the cot, a mansion proud Raises its stately roof tow’rd heaven; While mirth and revelry full loud Burst on the stillness of the even. Here wealth spreads her luxurious board, And glittering crowds the feast partake, Not caring how the starving horde Of hungry poor their fast may break. The wealth profusely squandered here, In gorgeous dress and proud array, |
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Would furnish forth good homely cheer On many a dreary winter’s day, To those who now, by want oppressed, Or smitten by some dire disease, Pray fervently to God for rest, That death may come their pangs to ease. And do you think a righteous God Will listen to your wretched pleas, That when you saw his chastening rod Inflicting famine and disease Upon your fellow-men, that ye Should grant no aid to their distress, But use your every energy To wrong, and crush them, and oppress? No! when you stand before his bar, You’ll hear pronounced this awful doom: "Depart from me, ye cursed, afar, And give my humble followers room!"
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