To Charles Sumner

To Charles Sumner

Thank God! that thou hast spoken

Words earnest, true, and brave:

The lightning of thy lips has smote

The fetters of the slave.

I thought the shadows deepened,

Round the pathway of the slave,

As one by one his faithful friends

Were dropping in the grave.

When other hands grew feeble,

And loosed their hold on life,

Thy words rang like a clarion

For freedom's noble strife.

Thy words were not soft echoes,

Thy tones no syren song:

They fell as battle-axes

Upon our giant throng.

God grant thy words of power

May fall as precious seeds,

That yet shall leaf and blossom

In high and holy deeds.

Frances Ellen Watkins (Harper)

1:50, p. 1

6.30.1860