Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MIDDLEBROOK, by EDWARD C. JONES

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MIDDLEBROOK, by            
First Line: The lowly huts of middlebrook
Last Line: Nor by their sons be lost.
Subject(s): Cities; New Jersey; Urban Life

The lowly huts of Middlebrook,
Which sheltered from the storm
Those who from God their lesson took,
Nor bowed to human form --
What glory gathers round the spot,
Like aureola gleam!
And passing time eclipses not
Of light that radiant stream.

The crowded huts of Middlebrook!
Our Roman sires were there,
Who on the future dared to look,
And knew not to despair.
'Mid autumn's foliage sere and dead,
'Mid winter's snow and blast,
Hope, like the Eastern palm tree, spread,
And flourished to the last.

Sequestered huts of Middlebrook!
The nation's heart beat high,
When Clinton fled to Sandy Hook,
And "Monmouth!" was our cry,
And they who played the hero then
Have passed to dust away,
And the log-built homes of truest men
Have yielded to decay.

But hopes that rose at Middlebrook,
And stern resolves, that there
Once murmured in a lowly nook,
Are passing everywhere;
They speed around the earth, and shake
The crumbling thrones of kings;
And despots start, to cringe and quake,
And feel like guilty things.

Oh! sainted hearts of Middlebrook,
Your mission was sublime;
The cause you never once forsook
Is bounded by no clime.
That cause -- the cause of truth and right --
Omnipotent as God,
Is destined to go forth and smite
With more than Aaron's rod.

Thrice holy spot of Middlebrook!
A Mecca to the heart,
As on thy lowly huts we look,
A Delphian shrine thou art;
And in the camp-fire's ruddy gleam,
Which fancy lights anew,
There bursts a holier, heavenlier beam
Than e'er Prometheus drew.

The lowly huts of Middlebrook!
Our fathers rested there;
And green forever be the nook,
And pure that Jersey air;
And may the pillar and the cloud
That went before their host
Still rear its canopy of flame,
Nor by their sons be lost.

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