Eighteen Hundred And Thirty
We
bring
no
earthly
wreath
for
Time;
To
man
th'immortal
Time
was
given-
Years
should
be
marked
by
deeds
sublime,
That
elevate
his
soul
to
heaven.
Thou
proudly
passing
year-thy
name
Is
registered
in
mind's
bright
flame,
And
louder
than
the
roar
of
waves,
Thundering
from
ocean's
prison
caves,
Comes
the
glad
shout
that
hallows
thee
The
Year
of
Freedom's
Jubilee!
'Tis
strange
how
mind
has
been
chained
down,
And
reason
scourged
like
branded
sin!
How
man
has
shrunk
before
man's
frown,
And
darkened
heaven's
own
fire
within!
But
Freedom
breathed-the
flame
burst
forth-
Wo
to
the
spoilers
of
the
earth,
Who
would
withstand
its
lightning
stroke,
And
heavier
forge
the
galling
yoke;-
As
well
the
breaking
reed
might
dare
The
cataract's
rush-the
whirlwind's
war!
Ay,
thrones
must
crumble-even
as
clay,
Searched
by
the
scorching
sun
and
wind!
And
crushed
be
Superstition's
sway
That
would
with
writing
scorpions
bind
The
terror-stricken
conscience
down
Beneath
anointed
monarch's
frown;
Till
Truth
is
in
her
temple
sought,
The
soul's
unbribed,
unfettered
thought,
That,
science-guided,
soars
unawed,
And
reading
Nature
rests
on
God!
This
must
be-is-the
passing
year
Has
rent
the
veil,
and
despots
stand
In
the
keen
glance
of
Truth
severe,
With
craven
brow
and
palsied
hand:-
Ye,
who
would
make
man's
spirit
free,
And
change
the
Old
World's
destiny,
Bring
forth
from
Learning's
halls
the
light,
And
watch,
that
Virtue's
shield
be
bright;
Then
to
the
"God
of
order"
raise
The
vow
of
faith,
the
song
of
praise,
And
on-and
sweep
Oppression's
chains,
Like
ice
beneath
the
vernal
rains!
My
Country,
ay,
thy
sons
are
proud,
True
heirs
of
Freedom's
glorious
dower;
For
never
here
has
knee
been
bowed
In
homage
to
a
mortal
power:
No,
never
here
has
tyrant
reigned,
And
never
here
has
thought
been
chained!
Then
who
would
follow
Europe's
sickly
light,
When
here
the
soul
may
put
forth
all
her
might,
And
show
the
nations,
as
they
gaze
in
awe,
That
Wisdom
dwells
with
Liberty
and
Law!
O,
when
will
Time
his
holiest
triumph
bring-
"Freedom
o'er
all
the
earth,
and
Christ
alone
reigns
King!"
Sarah Josepha Hale
Sarah Josepha Hale was born on October 24th, 1788 in Newport, New Hampshire. Her parents were strong advocates for education of both sexes. Therefore, Hale was taught well beyond the normal age for a woman. Later, she married a lawyer David Hale, who supported her in all scholarly endeavors. Sadly, her husband died after only nine years of marriage, leaving Hale a widow with five children. She turned to poetry as a form of income. Her most famous book, titled Poems for Our Children included a beloved story from her childhood. “Mary Had a Little Lamb” was instantly a popular nursey rhyme.