CLAY
His lispings fell like vesper dews
Upon the alien leaves,
Waking their inspirations through
The palpitating sheaves;
Then from those clarion “wood-notes wild”
Anointed dreams unsprung,
Wedding the lightning of the brain
To the thunder of the tongue!
We—we have seen him in the pride
Of his colossal youth,
We—we have heard his Vestal vows
To the Eternal Truth;
We—we have felt our spirits quail,
Our very beings bow,
When the supernal tempests shook
That monumental brow!
And never yet, since morning stars
Sang over Galilee,
Have nations seen the peer of this
Apostle of the free!
His was the avalanche of wrath
That smites the despot down,
And girds the brows of Justice with
An undisheveled crown.
[ 139 ]
