Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/318

 302 REBECCA S NICHOLS. [1840-50. O'erarchcd with leaves, The world awakes ! The arrowy sunlight cleaves, And as the morning breaks. Gilding the emerald glooms, Thousands of tearful eyes. Couched on the dew-lipped flowers. That weep misfortune's wrong. Let me lie, listening to the breezy chimes Lift up their piteous orbs to heaven above, Among the glistening limes, Despairing of his love. While yawning night the heavenly day en- Who notes the humble sparrow when it tombs. dies. Snatch me from earth ! Then, from narrow street Slmt out all sights of horror, guilt's quick And dingy alley — from the deepened walls pains, Of loathsome dens, The sufferer's cries. Fouler than green-webbed fens — Oppression's monstrous lies ! The human earth-worm crawls ! Wherewith it gilds its chains ; Dragging his listless feet The home defiled — the hearth. Through the broad thoroughfares of blaz- Where innocence and love united dwelt. ing day. And low-voiced prayer knelt,* His palm outstretched alway Till slid the serpent in those fair domains. For pity's scanty mite that coldly falls. All evil things That crawl and trail their slime along the For all who earn leaves By sweat and pain, their wretched crust of And blooms of life — bread The scorns, the hates, the strife The day is long ! For power, the mildewed sheaves, Labor unto the strong. Unwholesome contact, — stings The well, the clad, the fed, That hide their venom 'neath a mocking Is blessed ; the weak and worn smile. Shrink from the toil ; their miseries no Distilling death the while. name. Like poisonous vapors on the starry eves. Allied to grief and shame. Could half express the height, and depth, The day is long — and dread. How long, God ! when ignorance and sin Deal kindly, Sleep ! In its fair light With these forsaken ones — dry up their Plan deeds of darkest night — tears. When vice and folly win Let sweet repose The plaudits of the throng, Lap them from hungry woes While lowly worth and virtue shrink aside Which feed on their young yeai's ! From bloated, boasted pride. Through thy dear watches keep Who paves the stony way for human The grim, devouring phantom from thy wrong ! breast. That all the tides of rest The day is long ! May flow in lulling calmness o'er their When blush its roses in the orient skies. fears.