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Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for John G. Whittier or search for John G. Whittier in all documents.
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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 334 (search)
101. Ein Feste Burg Ist Unser Gott.
by John G. Whittier.
(Luther's Hymn.) We wait beneath the furnace blast The pangs of transformation; Not painlessly doth God recast And mould anew the nation. Hot burns the fire Where wrongs expire; Nor spares the hand That from the land Uproots the ancient evil. The hand-breadth cloud the sages feared, Its bloody rain is dropping; The poison plant the fathers spared, All else is overtopping. East, West, South, North, It curses the earth: All justice dies, And fraud and lies Live only in its shadow. What gives the wheat field blades of steel? What points the rebel cannon? What sets the roaring rabble's heel On the old star-spangled pennon? What breaks the oath Of the men oa the South? What whets the knife For the Union's life?-- Hark to the answer :--Slavery! Then waste no blows on lesser foes, In strife unworthy freemen. God lifts to-day the veil, and shows The features of the demon! O North and South, Its victims both, Can ye not cry,
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 469 (search)
155.
the crisis. by J. G. Whittier. The crisis presses on us; face to face with us it stands, With solemn lips of question, like the Sphynx in Egypt's sands! This day we fashion Destiny, our web of fate we spin; This day for all hereafter choose we holiness or sin; Even now from starry Gerizim, or Ebal's cloudy crown, We call the dews of blessing, or the bolts of cursing down! By all for which the Martyrs bore their agony and shame; By all the warning words of truth with which the Prophets came; By the Future which awaits us; by all the hope which cast Their faint and trembling beams across the blackness of the Past, And in the awful name of Him who for earth's freedom died; O ye people!
O my brothers!
let us choose the righteous side! So shall the Northern pioneer go joyfully on his way, To wed Penobscot's waters to San Francisco's bay; To make the rugged places smooth, and sow the vales with grain, And bear, with Liberty and Law, the Bible in his train; The mighty West shall