Page:Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier (1895).djvu/330

298   Can the craft of State avail them! Can a Christless church withstand, In the van of Freedom’s onset, the coming of that hand?

over, Moses! All is lost!
 * I hear the bells a-ringing;

Of Pharaoh and his Red Sea host
 * I hear the Free-Wills singing,

We ’re routed, Moses, horse and foot,
 * If there be truth in figures,

With Federal Whigs in hot pursuit,
 * And Hale, and all the “niggers.”

Alack! alas! this month or more
 * We ’ve felt a sad foreboding;

Our very dreams the burden bore
 * Of central cliques exploding;

Before our eyes a furnace shone,
 * Where heads of dough were roasting,

And one we took to be your own
 * The traitor Hale was toasting!