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While the multitude in blindness to a far off Saviour knelt;
And spurned, the while, the temple where a preseni Saviour dwelt;
Thou beheld'st Him in the task-field, in the prison shadows dim,
And thy mercy to the bondman, it was mercy unto Him!

In thy lone and long night watches, sky above and wave below,
Thou did'st learn a higher wisdom than the babbling schoolmen know;
God's stars and silence taught thee as His angels only can,
That the one, sole sacred thing beneath the cope of heaven is man!

That he who treads profanely on the scrolls of law and creed,
In the depth of God's great goodness may find mercy in his need;
But woe to him who crushes the soul with chain and rod,
And herds with lower natures the awful form of God!

Then list that manly right hand, bold ploughman of the wave!
Its branded palm shall prophesy «SalvaTION TO THE Slave!'
Hold up its fire-wrought language, that whoso reads may feel
His heart swell strong within hiin, his sinews change to steel.

Hold it up before our sunshine, up against our northern air-
Ho! men of Massachusetts, for the love of God look there!
Take it herceforth for your standard-like the Bruce's heart of yore,
In the dark strife closing round ye, let that hand be seen before !

And the tyrants of the slave land shall tremble at that sign,
When it points i fingers southward along the Puritan line:
Woe to the sta.t gorged leeches, and the church's locust band,
When they look from slavery's ramparts on the coming of that Hand!

TO TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE.

LEGGETT'S MONUMENT.

BY WILLIAM WORDS WORTH.

BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

"" Ye build the tornbs of the Prophets."-Holy Wait. Toussaint !--- thou most unhappy man of men!

Whether the whistling rustic tends his plough Yes-pile the marble o'er him! It is well
Within thy hearing; or thy head be now

That ye who mocked him in his long stern strise,
Pillowed in some deep dungeon's earless den; And planted in the pathway of his life
Oh, miserable chiestain !-where and when The ploughshares of your hatred, hot from hell,

Wilt thou find patience ?— Yet, die not; do thou Who clamored down the bold reformer when Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow:

He pleaded for his captive fellow men, Though fallen thyself, never to rise again,

Who spurned him in the market-place, and sought Live and take comfort. Thou hast left behind Within thy walls, St. Tamany, to bind Powers that will work for thee; air, earth, and in party chains the free and honest thought, skies,

The angel utterance of an upright mind, re's not a breathing of the common wind Well it is now that o'er his grave ye raise That will forget thee: thou hast great allies ; The stony tribute of your tardy praise, Thy friends are exultations, agonies,

For not alone that pile shall tell to Fame And love, and man's unconquerable mind. Of the brave heart beneath, but of the builders' shame.

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