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Read Ebook: A Wreath of Virginia Bay Leaves Poems of James Barron Hope by J B H James Barron Hope
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Ebook has 142 lines and 17611 words, and 3 pages
Full-burnished through the long-revolving years The ploughshare of a Century to-day Runs peaceful furrows where a crop of Spears Once stood in War's array.
And we, like those who on the Trojan plain See hoary secrets wrenched from upturned sods;-- Who, in their fancy, hear resound again The battle-cry of gods;--
We now,--this splendid scene before us spread Where Freedom's full hexameter began-- Restore our Epic, which the Nations read As far its thunders ran.
Here visions throng on People and on Bard, Ranks all a-glitter in battalions massed And closed around as like a plum?d guard, They lead us down the Past.
I see great Shapes in vague confusion march Like giant shadows, moving vast and slow, Beneath some torch-lit temple's mighty arch Where long processions go.
I see these Shapes before me, all unfold, But ne'er can fix them on the lofty wall, Nor tell them, save as she of Endor told What she beheld to Saul.
THE DEAD STATESMAN.
I see his Shape who should have led these ranks-- GARFIELD I see whose presence had evoked The stormy rapture of a Nation's thanks-- His chariot stands unyoked!
Unyoked and empty, and the Charioteer To Fame's expanded arms has headlong rushed Ending the glories of a grand career, While all the world stood hushed.
The thunder of his wheels is done, but he Sustained by patience, fortitude, and grace-- A Christian Hero--from the struggle free-- Has won the Christian's race!
His wheel-tracks stop not in the Valley cold But upward lead, and on, and up, and higher, Till Hope can realize and Faith behold His chariot mount in fire!
Therefore, my Countrymen, lift up your hearts! Therefore, my Countrymen, be not cast down! He lives with those who well have done their parts, And God bestowed his crown!
And yet another form to-day I miss;-- Grigsby the scholar, good, and pure, and wise, Who now, perchance, from scenes of perfect bliss Looks down with tender eyes.
Where his great friend, through life great Winthrop stands, Winthrop, whose gift, in life's departing hours, Went to the dying Old Virginian's hands Who died amid those flowers.
Prayers change to blooms, the ancient Rabbins taught; So his, then, seemed to blossom forth and glow, As if his supplicating soul had brought Sandalphon down below.
But, happily, that Winthrop stood to-day, The patriot, scholar, orator, and sage, To tell the meaning of this grand array And vindicate an Age.
That Era's life and meaning his to teach, To him the parchments, but the shell to me, His voice the voice of billows on the beach Wherein we heard the sea.
My voice the voice of some sequestered stream Which only boasts, as on its waters glide, That, here and there, it shows a broken gleam Of pictures on its tide.
THE COLONIES.
The fountain of our story spreads no clouds Of mist above it rich in varied glows, None paint us Gods and Goddesses in crowds Where some Scamander flows.
The tale of Jamestown, which I need not gild, With that of Plymouth, by the World is seen, But none, in visions, fancifully build Olympus in between.
At Jamestown stood the Saxon's home and graves, There Britain's spray broke on the native rock, There rose the English tide with crested waves And overwhelming shock.
Virginia thence, stirred by a grand unrest, Swept o'er the waters, scaled the mountain's crag, Hewed out a more than Roman roadway West, And planted there her flag.
Her fortune was forewritten even then-- That fortune in the coming years to be "Mother of States and unpolluted men," And nurse of Liberty.
Then 'twas our coast all bore Virginia's name; Next North Virginia took its separate place, And grew by slow degrees in wealth and fame And Freedom's special grace.
THE NEW ENGLAND GROUP.
At Plymouth Rock a handful of brave souls, Full-armed in faith, erected home and shrine, And flourished where the wild Atlantic rolls Its pyramids of brine.
There rose a manly race austere and strong, On whom no lessons of their day were lost, Earnest as some conventicle's deep song, And keen as their own frost.
But that shrewd frost became a friend to those Who fronted there the Ice-King's bitter storm, For see we not that underneath the snows The growing wheat keeps warm?
Soft ease and silken opulence they spurned; From sands of silver, and from emerald boughs With golden ingots laden full, they turned Like Pilgrims under vows.
For them no tropic seas, no slumbrous calms, No rich abundance generously unrolled: In place of Cromwell's proffered flow'rs and palms They chose the long-drawn cold.
The more it blew, the more they faced the gale; The more it snowed, the more they would not freeze; And when crops failed on sterile hill and vale-- They went to reap the seas!
Far North, through wild and stormy brine they ran, With hands a-cold plucked Winter by the locks! Masterful mastered great Leviathan And drove the foam as flocks!
Next in their order came the Middle Group, Perchance less hardy, but as brave they grew,-- Grew straight and tall with not a bend, or stoop-- Heart-timber through and through!
Midway between the ardent heat and cold They spread abroad, and by a homely spell, The iron of their axes changed to gold As fast the forests fell!
Doing the things they found to do, we see That thus they drew a mighty empire's charts, And, working for the present, took in fee The future for their marts!
And there unchallenged may the boast be made, Although they do not hold his sacred dust, That Penn, the Founder, never once betrayed The simple Indian's trust.
To them the genius which linked Silver Lakes With the blue Ocean and the outer World, And the fair banner, which their commerce shakes, Wise Clinton's hand unfurled.
THE SOUTHERN COLONIES.
Then sweeping down below Virginia's Capes, From Chesapeake to where Savannah flows, We find the settlers laughing 'mid their grapes And ignorant of snows.
Yet, they had tragedies all dark and fell! Lone Roanoke Island rises on the view, And this Peninsula its tale could tell Of Opecancanough!
But, when the Ocean thunders on the shore Its waves, though broken, overflow the beach; So here our Fathers on and onward bore With English laws and speech.
Kind skies above them, underfoot rich soils; Silence and Savage at their presence fled; This Giant's Causeway, sacred through their toils, Resounded at their tread.
With ardent hearts, and ever-open hands, Candid and honest, brave and proud they grew, Their lives and habits colored by fair lands As skies give waters hue.
The race in semi-Feudal State appears-- Their Knightly figures glow in tender mist, With ghostly pennons flung from ghostly spears And ghostly hawks on wrist.
Fate's falcon soared aloft full strong and free, With blood on talons, plumage, beak, and breast! Her shadow like a storm-shade on the sea Far-sailing down the West!
Swift hoofs clang out behind that Falcon's flights-- Hoofs shod with Golden Horse Shoes catch the eye! And as they ring, we see the Forest-Knights-- The Cavaliers ride by!
THE OLD DOMINION.
Midway between the orange and the snows As some fair planet rounds up from the sea, Eldest of all, the Central Power arose In vague immensity.
And liberal Stuart granted broad and free Bound'ries which still the annalist may boast-- Limits which ran "throughout from sea to sea," And far along the coast!
A mighty shaft through Raleigh's fingers slipped, Smith shot it, and--a Continent awoke! For that great arrow with an acorn tipped, Planted an English Oak!
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