Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/Election
ELECTION.
ON THE MEETING OF THE FREEMEN TO ELECT THEIR REPRESENTATIVES, SEPT. 19th, 1814.
I SEEM to hear a distant voice
Thus feebly and imploring say,
"My sons—supporters of my laws,
Arouse ye at my call to day."
Is this my Country? She whose tone
Was once so strong, so bold, so just;
Now like a captive sad and lone,
Why sighs she faintly from the dust?
Ask not: I cannot answer why;
Turn from me, I would seek to mourn:
But cast not thine indignant eye
On yonder banner stain'd and torn.
Its hue was once like mountain snows,
Which no rude foot had ever prest;
And like the azure tint that glows,
When summer suns the skies invest.
Now faded, dark, and foul with stains,
Defac'd with blood, and soil'd with clay,
A remnant round the staff remains,
Oh! save it, ere 'tis rent away.
And ask not why that sword is dyed
In carnage reeking to the hilt?
The stains are dark that mark its side,
But redden with the hue of guilt,
Yet Oh! the land where saints have pray'd,
And holy men, and heroes trod,
Though for a season dark with shade,
Is not forsaken of its God.
I trust some beam of hope will rise,
To cheer this dim and troubled spot;
Some star of mercy light the skies,
Though now its lustre glimmers not.
Then if one plant of peace be left,
One stream that still with freedom runs,
One branch not yet of bloom bereft,
Oh, save it for your infant sons.
Like diamond be the shield you wear,
Which no rash stain of blood shall dim;
Lift to your God the eye of prayer,
And firmly fix your trust in Him.