Thomas Morris

Thomas Morris

Free Senator! accept the lay

The unknown muse attunes for thee,

Not for the valorous display

Of martial feats and chivalry,

Or for the blood-stained laurels won
By knightly feats of daring done.

Not for the palm of high renown,

The price of blood, and chains, and tears;

Not for the talents vainly shown

In windy war with thy compeers;

But for a deed more nobly brave -
The pleading of the outcast slave.

For this thy name shall live in song,

If song of mine itself shall live,

And living bear the mead along

Thy deeds have earned, and faithful give

To future time thy moral worth
When cold thy ashes rest in earth.

And when thy proud com-patriots* lie

Forgotten, 'neath the silent sod,

And when their words and memories die,

Scathed by the blighting curse of God -

Thy deeds shall gain enduring fame,
And men unborn revere thy name.

Ah, yes! the ransomed slave shall bless

Thy name when thou art laid at rest,

And pointing to thy tomb express,

"There lies in peaceful slumber, blest,

The advocate of the opprest,
Friend of the poor and the distrest."

Intrepid Statesman! when the tongues

Of Northern Senators were hushed,

And despots triumph'd o'er the wrongs

Of minds debased and spirits crushed,

When even Webster's spirit quailed,
And firm John Quincy's ardor failed -

'Twas then thou rose to breast the storm,

And throw thyself as in the breach,

To raise the captive's bleeding form,

And with undaunted manly speech,

To show his wrongs, the sighs and tears
That preyed upon his soul for years.

Thou spake, and on the oppressor flung

The burden of thy strong rebuke,

'Til guilt alarmed and conscience stung,

With rage and consternation shook;

And haughty southrons awes-truck hung
Upon the thunders of thy tongue.

Firm and erect, thou stood'st alone,

And slavery's haughty champions met;

Not the stern brow of fierce Calhoun,

Nor Patton's gag, nor Preston's threat,

Thy dauntless spirit could dismay -
Thous fear'dst not the face of CLAY.

Let fiery Rhett and Campbell rave,

And woman's weak petition spurn,

Let Waddy Thompson - Slavery's slave,

With fury, rage, and anger burn -

Let Pinkney, Wise, and Atherton
Reap all the fame their deeds have won.

But thou shalt gain immortal praise,

Thy country's blessing rest on thee;

The bondsman freed his voice shall raise,

And link thy name with Liberty -

For lo! thy monument shall be
Raised in the hearts of slaves made free.

_________

* Those that uphold slavery!

A.L.B.

3:19, p. 4

1839.07.13

From the Philanthropist