Lines, to the Memory of John I. Gaines

Lines, to the Memory of John I. Gaines

Thy work is done, thy toiling ceased,
And from thy cares thou seekest rest;
Thou hast done well, a race wll bless,
And heavn reward thy faithfulness.
Thy voice was heard for human right,
Thy heart grew strong and spent its might
For human weal. Thy beacon light
Shone brightly o'er the darkened waste—
Until, upon the ear of night,
The rush of freemen in their haste,
The clarion peal of conscious wrongs,
Are heard by the awakened throngs;
And now Ohio heaves to-day,
Indeed America, with heart
Though pierced by slavery's poisoned dart,
Yet throbs to burst the bonds away.
Let tyrants curse, cowards declaim,
The fire will kindle to a flame!
The labors of thy life will swell
With theirs, who like thee, labored well
Oppression's arm to paralyze!
Freedom in holy might arise.

Miss A.E. Chancellor

1:22, p. 3

12.17.1859