102

TO THE COMING COMET.

A second Stuart, star, you next
Of sceptre and of crown bereft.
See, despots vex our poor earth still;
Oh, haste upon its tyrants here
Thy destin'd purpose to fulfil ;
Appear, O star, again appear!

Then next the Bourbons' fated race,

Long doom'd-long spared-awoke thine ire
Well might weak Louis trembling trace

Along the night thy train of fire.
Thy glare along the ghastly skies

Its tyrant's doom to France foretold;
Thou heard'st the people's anguish'd cries;
A king's head on their scaffold roll'd.
See, despots vex our poor earth still;
Oh, haste upon its tyrants here
Thy destin'd purpose to fulfil;
Appear, O star, again appear!

Then, ere you sank from human eyes,
How, wild with terror, Europe rung,
How often, with the dying cries

Of tyrants from the people sprung!
Marat fierce Danton-Robespierre,

All drunk with blood, by you were hurl'd
To death, no more to shake with fear
The kings and nations of the world.
See, despots vex poor Europe still;
Oh, haste upon its tyrants here
Thy destin'd purpose to fulfil;
Appear, O star, again appear!

A tyrant from the people sprung,
Napoleon trod on prostrate thrones ;
A despot still, his ruling wrung

From trampled Europe tears and groans,

And thou didst hear; his doom to tell,

Upon the night thy terrors rose,

And, false to freedom's rights, he fell,
Struck down by nations made his foes.
See, despots vex our poor earth still;
Oh, haste upon its tyrants here
Thy destin'd purpose to fulfil;
Appear, O star, again appear!

Again across the ghastly night,
O star, thy vengeful terrors sped;
Friend of the people, from thy sight,
Again the baffled Bourbons fled.
But better influence thou didst shed;
The people's foes thou didst not slay;
He, too, the despot in their stead
Thou didst but, crownless, scare away.
See, despots vex our poor earth still;
Oh, haste upon its tyrants here
Thy destin'd purpose to fulfil ;
Appear, O star, again appear!

But woe unto the nations! woe!
To tyrants, tyrants still succeed;
Look on this Europe, star, and know
How much thy coming still we need ;
For souls and tongues are fetter'd sore,
And slaves are they who should be free,
And nations wildly watch once more
Thy thrice-blest gleams, O star, to see.
See, despots vex our poor earth still;
Oh, haste upon its tyrants here
Thy destin'd purpose to fulfil ;
Appear, O wanderer, re-appear!

How long thy coming blaze to see,
In vain the weary nations pine;
When wilt thou come?

A nobler, purer '89 ?

When will there be

Come, and a worthier '30 bring;

How long-how long we watch and wait!

104

MY ROSES BLOSSOM THE WHOLE YEAR ROUND.

1858.

Come, star, and let the glad earth ring
With the free shouts of '48.

See, despots vex our poor earth still;
Oh, haste upon its tyrants here
Thy destin'd purpose to fulfil;
Appear, O star, again appear!

DEAD.

ROSES!

Ah! to charm the golden light,

Summer none like them discloses,

Smiles that day that met my sight,

Roses!

Lilies!

Oh, to live again that day

White-how white! how cold and still is Each wan cheek-sweet life away!

Lilies!

MY ROSES BLOSSOM THE WHOLE YEAR
ROUND.

My roses blossom the whole year round;
For, O they grow on enchanted ground;

Divine is the earth

Where they spring to birth;

On dimpling cheeks with love and mirth,
They're found,

They're ever found.

My lilies no change of seasons heed;
Nor shelter from storms or frosts they need;

For, O they grow

On a neck of snow,

Nor all the wintry blasts that blow

They heed,

They ever heed.

THE RIGHT ABOVE THE WRONG.

THE HOPE OF THE PEOPLE.

I HEAR them say, "By all this stir "What do the people gain?

"Their despots' slaves of old they were,

"Their slaves they still remain." Yet God will right the people yet, Although the struggle's long;

Yes, friends, we've faith that God will set The right above the wrong.

"See France," they say, "what has she won "By all her bloody past?

"She ends the same as she begun,
"A tyrant's toy at last."

Yet, Heaven her woe will not forget,
She'll up again ere long;

For her we've faith that God will set
The right above the wrong.

"No more your Hungary's battle-peals "O'er listening Europe roll;

66

Securely gagg'd and chain'd, she feels "The iron in her soul."

Does she her battle-fields forget,

Triumphant once so long?

She waits for her, too, God will set
The right above the wrong.

66 Milan, too, rose in '48,

"And tore her chains away, "To curse again her children's fate“The Austrians' scorn to-day." Her three days she remembers yet, And still her hope is strong, Ere long her God for her will set

The right above the wrong.

106

THE RIGHT ABOVE THE WRONG.

"Look, at its triple despots' feet,
"Their victim, Poland lies;

"Who knows if still its free heart beat,
"Or heeds its dying cries?"
Ah! God its cries will not forget;

Though Poland suffer long,

We've faith that God for her will set
The right above the wrong.

"Vienna 'gainst the Hapsburg rose:
"And what's Vienna now?
"The very scoff of Freedom's foes,
"The thing a spy can cow."
And does she '48 forget?

No. Armed, and free ere long,
Within her walls our God will set
The right above the wrong.

1857.

Yes; gagg'd and chain'd the nations lie,
And wrong and vengeance reign;

To God goes up the bitter cry

That will not rise in vain.

The people watch, and wait, and let
Their living hope be strong,
Who doubts but God at last will set
The right above the wrong?

For in a righteous God we trust ;
In Him our hope is sure;

We will not think, while He is just,
Injustice can endure.

Not long, O God, wilt Thou forget

Thy people's cries—not long ;
Thou wilt arise in wrath, and set
The right above the wrong.