And wider yet in thought and deed Diverge our pathways, one in youth; Thine the Genevan's sternest creed, While answers to my spirit's need

The Derby dalesman's simple truth. For thee, the priestly rite and prayer, And holy day, and solemn psalm; For me, the silent reverence where My brethren gather, slow and calm.

Yet hath thy spirit left on me

An impress Time has worn not out,
And something of myself in thee,
A shadow from the past, I see,

Lingering, even yet, thy way about;
Not wholly can the heart unlearn
That lesson of its better hours,
Not yet has Time's dull footstep worn
To common dust that path of flowers.

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70

1 In 1658 two young persons, son and daughter of Lawrence Southwick of Salem, who had himself been imprisoned and deprived of nearly all his property for having entertained Quakers at his house, were fined for non-attendance at church. They being unable to pay the fine, the General Court issued an order empowering The Treasurer of the County to sell the said persons to any of the English nation of Virginia or Barbadoes, to answer said fines.' An attempt was made to carry this order into execution, but no shipmaster was found willing to convey them to the West Indies. (WHITTIER.)

'Where be the smiling faces, and voices soft and sweet,

Seen in thy father's dwelling, heard in the pleasant street?

Where be the youths whose glances, the summer Sabbath through, Turned tenderly and timidly unto thy father's pew?

'Why sit'st thou here, Cassandra ? - Bethink thee with what mirth

The happy schoolmates gather around the warm, bright hearth;

How the crimson shadows tremble on foreheads white and fair,

On eyes of merry girlhood, half hid in golden hair.

Not for thee the hearth-fire brightens, not for thee kind words are spoken, Not for thee the nuts of Wenham woods by laughing boys are broken; No first-fruits of the orchard within thy lap are laid,

30

For thee no flowers of autumn the youthful hunters braid.

'O weak, deluded maiden!—by crazy fancies led,

With wild and raving railers an evil path to tread;

To leave a wholesome worship, and teaching pure and sound,

And mate with maniac women, loosehaired and sackcloth bound,

'Mad scoffers of the priesthood, who mock at things divine,

Who rail against the pulpit, and holy bread and wine;

Sore from their cart-tail scourgings, and

from the pillory lame,

Rejoicing in their wretchedness, and glorying in their shame.

40

Dragging the slowly lengthening chain of bondage to the grave!

Think of thy woman's nature, subdued in hopeless thrall,

The easy prey of any, the scoff and scorn of all !'

Oh, ever as the Tempter spoke, and feeble Nature's fears

Wrung drop by drop the scalding flow of unavailing tears,

I wrestled down the evil thoughts, and strove in silent prayer,

To feel, O Helper of the weak! that Thou indeed wert there!

I thought of Paul and Silas, within Philippi's cell,

And how from Peter's sleeping limbs the prison shackles fell,

50

Till I seemed to hear the trailing of an angel's robe of white,

And to feel a blessed presence invisible to sight.

Bless the Lord for all his mercies ! - for the peace and love I felt,

Like dew of Hermon's holy hill, upon my spirit melt;

When Get behind me, Satan!' was the language of my heart, And I felt the Evil Tempter with all his doubts depart.

Slow broke the gray cold morning; again the sunshine fell,

Flecked with the shade of bar and grate within my lonely cell;

The hoar-frost melted on the wall, and upward from the street

Came careless laugh and idle word, and tread of passing feet.

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At length the heavy bolts fell back, my door was open cast,

And slowly at the sheriff's side, up the long street I passed;

I heard the murmur round me, and felt, but dared not see,

How, from every door and window, the people gazed on me.

And doubt and fear fell on me, shame burned upon my cheek,

toiling slave,

bling limbs grew weak:

And poisoning with his evil words the ruler's ready ear,

The priest leaned o'er his saddle, with laugh and scoff and jeer;

It stirred my soul, and from my lips the seal of silence broke,

As if through woman's weakness a warning spirit spoke.

I cried, 'The Lord rebuke thee, thou smiter of the meek,

Thou robber of the righteous, thou trampler of the weak!

Go light the dark, cold hearth-stones, go turn the prison lock

Of the poor hearts thou hast hunted, thou wolf amid the flock!'

By the living God who made me! - I would sooner in your bay Sink ship and crew and cargo, than bear this child away!'

'Well answered, worthy captain, shame on their cruel laws!'

Ran through the crowd in murmurs loud the people's just applause.

Let all dear hearts with me rejoice, as did the saints of old,

'Like the herdsmen of Tekoa, in Israel of old,

No trains of deep-mouthed cannon along our highways go;

Around our silent arsenals untrodden lies the snow;

1 Written on reading an account of the proceedings of the citizens of Norfolk, Va., in reference to George Latimer, the alleged fugitive slave, who was seized in Boston without warrant at the request of James B. Grey, of Norfolk, claiming to be his master. The case caused great excitement North and South, and led to the presentation of a petition to Congress, signed by more than fifty thousand citizens of Massachusetts, calling for such laws and proposed amendments to the Constitution as should relieve the Commonwealth from all further participation in the crime of oppression. George Latimer himself was finally given free papers for the sum of four hundred dollars. (WHITTIER.)

When the excitement was at its height, conventions were held simultaneously in every county in Massachusetts, and this poem was read at the Essex County convention. The most intense enthusiasm was aroused by those stanzas in which all the counties of the State speak successively, each in its own character.