A DREAM. "I HAD a dream · a strange, wild dream Said a dear voice at early light; "And even yet its shadows seem To linger in my waking sight. 'Earth, green with spring, and fresh with dew, And bright with morn, before me stood; And airs just wakened softly blew On the young blossoms of the wood. "Birds sang within the sprouting shade, Bees hummed amid the whispering grass, And children prattled as they played Beside the rivulet's dimpling glass. "Fast climbed the sun - the flowers were flown, There played no children in the glen; For some were gone, and some were grown "'Twas noon, 'twas summer I beheld Woods darkening in the flush of day, And that bright rivulet spread and swelled, A mighty stream, with creek and bay. "And here was love, and there was strife, "Now stooped the sun - the shades grew thin; The rustling paths were piled with leaves; And sun-burnt groups were gathering in, From the shorn field, its fruits and sheaves. "The river heaved with sullen sounds; "Still waned the day; the wind that chased The jagged clouds blew chiller yet; The woods were stripped, the fields were waste; The wintry sun was near its set. "And of the young, and strong, and fair, A lonely remnant, gray and weak, Lingered, and shivered to the air Of that bleak shore and water bleak. "Ah! age is drear, and death is cold! Twas thus I heard the dreamer say, And bade her clear her clouded brow; "For thou and I, since childhood's day, Have walked in such a dream till now. "Watch we in calmness, as they rise, The changes of that rapid dream, And note its lessons, till our eyes Shall open in the morning beam.” THE ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM. HERE are old trees, tall oaks and gnarled pines, That stream with gray-green mosses; here the ground Was never trenched by spade, and flowers spring up Unsown, and die ungathered. It is sweet To linger here, among the flitting birds, And leaping squirrels, wandering brooks, and winds That shake the leaves, and scatter, as they pass, shades Peaceful, unpruned, immeasurably old — My thoughts go up the long dim path of years, Back to the earliest days of liberty. Oh FREEDOM! thou art not, as poets dream, A fair young girl, with light and delicate limbs, And wavy tresses gushing from the cap With which the Roman master crowned his slave When he took off the gyves. A bearded man, Armed to the teeth, art thou; one mailed hand Grasps the broad shield, and one the sword; thy brow, Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarred With tokens of old wars; thy massive limbs His bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee; Merciless power has dug thy dungeon deep, And his swart armorers, by a thousand fires, bound, The links are shivered, and the prison walls Thy birthright was not given by human hands: Thou wert twin-born with man. In pleasant fields, While yet our race was few, thou sat'st with him, To tend the quiet flock and watch the stars, And teach the reed to utter simple airs. Thou by his side, amid the tangled wood, 23-L & B-DD |