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VOICE OF ENCOURAGEMENT, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: Youths! Compatriots! Friends! Men for the time that is nearing!
Last Line: While the pale banquetless guests await in trembling to hear it


Youths! Compatriots! Friends! Men for the time that is nearing!
Spirits appointed by Heaven to front the storm and the trouble!
You, who in seasons of peril, unfaltering still and unfearing,
Calmly have held on your course, the course of the Just and the Noble!
You, young men, would a man unworthy to rank in your number,
Yet with a heart that bleeds for his country's wrongs and affliction,
Fain raise a voice to, in song, albeit his music and diction
Rather be fitted, alas! to lull to, than startle from, slumber.


Friends! the gloom in our land, in our once bright land, grows deeper.
Suffering, even to death, in its horriblest forms, aboundeth;
Thro' our black harvestless fields, the peasants' faint wail resoundeth.
Hark to it, even now! . . . The nightmare oppressèd sleeper
Gasping and struggling for life, beneath his hideous bestrider,
Sëeth not, drëeth not, sight or terror more fearful or ghastly
Than that poor paralysed slave! Want, Houselessness, Famine, and lastly
Death in a thousand-corpsed grave, that momently waxeth wider.


Worse! The great heart of the country is thrilled and throbbeth but faintly!
Apathy palsieth here-and there, a panic misgiving:
Even the Trustful and Firm, even the Sage and the Saintly,
Seem to believe that the Dead but foreshow the doom of the Living.
Men of the faithfullest souls all but broken-hearted
O'er the dishonoured tombs of the glorious dreams that have perished-
Dreams that almost outshone Realities while they were cherished-
All, they exclaim, is gone! The Vision and Hope have departed!


Worst and saddest! As under Milton's lowermost Tophet
Yawned another yet lower, so for the mourning Million
Still is there deeper woe! Patriot, Orator, Prophet,
Some who a few years agone stood proudly in the Pavilion
Of their land's rights and liberties, gazing abroad thro' its casement
On the fair Future they fondly deemed at hand for their nation,
Now not alone succumb to the change and the Degradation,
But have ceased even to feel them! God! this indeed is abasement!


Is the last hope then gone? Must we lie down despairing?
No! there is always hope for all who will dare and suffer;
Hope for all who surmount the Hill of Exertion, uncaring
Whether their path be brighter or darker, smoother or rougher;
No! there is always hope for those who, relying with earnest
Souls on God and themselves, take for their motto, "Labour."






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