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[The following poems, with one exception, were written at
sea, in the latter part of October. I had not then heard of Dr. Channing's death. Since that event, the poem addressed to him is no longer appropriate. I have decided, however, to let it remain as it was written, a fee. ble testimony of my admiration for a great and good man.]
TO WILLIAM E. CHANNING.
The pages of thy book I read,
And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said,
"Servant of God! well done !"
Well done! Thy words are great and bold;
At times they seem to me,
Half-battles for the free.
Go on, until this land revokes
The old and chartered Lie, The feudal curse, whose whips and yokes
A voice is ever at thy side
Speaking in tones of might,
To John in Patmos, “Write !"
Write! and tell out this bloody tale ;
Record this dire eclipse, This Day of Wrath, this Endless Wail,
This dread A pocalypse !