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THE GREAT BELL ROLAND.

And Freedom so stands safe in Ghent !
And merrier bells now ring,

And in the land's serene content
Men shout "God save the King!
Until the skies are rent!

So let it be !

A kingly king is he

Who keeps his people free!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Ring out across the sea!

No longer They but We

Have now such need of thee!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Nor ever may thy throat

Keep dumb its warning note

Till Freedom's perils be outbraved !
Toll! Roland, toll!

Till Freedom's flag, wherever waved,
Shall shadow not a man enslaved!
Toll! Roland, toll!

From Northern lake to Southern strand!
Toll! Roland, toll!

Till friend and foe, at thy command,
Once more shall clasp each other's hand,
And shout, one-voiced, "God save the land!
And love the land that God hath saved!
Toll! Roland, toll!

April 16, 1861.

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OD, to the human soul,

GOD, to the

And all the spheres that roll,

Wrapped by his Spirit in their robes of light,
Hath said: "The primal plan

Of all the world, and man,

Is Forward! Progress is your law

The despots of the earth,

Since Freedom had her birth,

your right.”

Have to their subject nations said, "Stand still;"

So, from the Polar Bear,

Comes down the freezing air,

And stiffens all things with its deadly chill.

He who doth God resist

God's old antagonist

Would snap the chain that binds all things to him; And in his godless pride,

All peoples would divide,

And scatter even the choirs of seraphim.

God, all the orbs that roll
Binds to one common goal -

FORWARD!

One source of light and life

In one fraternal mind

his radiant throne.

All races would he bind,

Till every man in man a brother own.

Tyrants with tyrants league,
Corruption and intrigue

To strangle infant Liberty conspire.
Around her cradle, then,

Let self-devoted men

Gather, and keep unquenched her vital fire.

When Tyranny, grown bold,

To Freedom's host cries, "Hold!

Ye towards her temple at your peril march;

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"Stop, first, the host that moves across yon arch!

When Tyranny commands,

"Hold thou my victim's hands, While I more firmly rivet on his chains,

Or with my bowie-knife,

I'll take your craven life,

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Or show my streets bespattered with your brains.”

Freedom, with forward tread,
Unblenching, turns her head,

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THE PARTING.

And drawing from its sheath her flashing glave,
Calmly makes answer: "Dare

Touch of my head one hair,

I'll cut the cord that holds your every slave !”

I

THE PARTING.

AM sitting, idly sitting, where the twilight shades are flitting,

And the memory of the past is drawing round me like a spell;

Breathes the last tones of the nearest, the fondest and the dearest,

Still within my ear in a tremulous farewell.

It is hard to think us parted - trusted, trusting, steel-true hearted

And that many lengths may crumble from the lengthening chain of time,

Ere my lips may feel thy pressing, or my hair the light caressing

That have thrilled my heart with rapture, and a love almost sublime.

THE PARTING.

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Ah, our lives have twined together like the vines in sunny wreaths,

And we never thought to part till death should break the chain

With which golden love had bound us, waving like a halo round us

Every thought and every feeling, grasping joys, ignoring pain.

Yet, thou 'rt gone!-- thy country calls thee! Faction's stormy cloud enthralls thee,

And I never more may look into the blue depths of thine eyes,

Never hear thy loud voice stealing, with its rich, deep freight of feeling,

On my ear in gentle murmurs as the evening glory dies.

Life seems 'reft of every beauty; I have scarce a heart for duty,

As I sit here thinking, thinking of thee, darling,

far away.

Tears are falling fast and faster

no dire disaster

Heaven grant

May make the gloom eternal that is on my heart

to-day!

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