Classic and Contemporary Poetry
PAEAN, by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Now, joy and thanks forevermore! Last Line: The signal-call that freedom makes! Subject(s): Emancipation Movement & Proclamation; Antislavery Movement - United States | ||||||||
NOW, joy and thanks forevermore! The dreary night has wellnigh passed, The slumbers of the North are o'er, The Giant stands erect at last! More than we hoped in that dark time When, faint with watching, few and worn, We saw no welcome day-star climb The cold gray pathway of the morn! O weary hours! O night of years! What storms our darkling pathway swept, Where, beating back our thronging fears, By Faith alone our march we kept. How jeered the scoffing crowd behind, How mocked before the tyrant train, As, one by one, the true and kind Fell fainting in our path of pain! They died, their brave hearts breaking slow, But, self-forgetful to the last, In words of cheer and bugle blow Their breath upon the darkness passed. A mighty host, on either hand, Stood waiting for the dawn of day To crush like reeds our feeble band; The morn has come, and where are they? Troop after troop their line forsakes; With peace-white banners waving free, And from our own the glad shout breaks, Of Freedom and Fraternity! Like mist before the growing light, The hostile cohorts melt away; Our frowning foemen of the night Are brothers at the dawn of day! As unto these repentant ones We open wide our toil-worn ranks, Along our line a murmur runs Of song, and praise, and grateful thanks. Sound for the onset! Blast on blast! Till Slavery's minions cower and quail; One charge of fire shall drive them fast Like chaff before our Northern gale! O prisoners in your house of pain, Dumb, toiling millions, bound and sold, Look! stretched o'er Southern vale and plain, The Lord's delivering hand behold! Above the tyrant's pride of power, His iron gates and guarded wall, The bolts which shattered Shinar's tower Hang, smoking, for a fiercer fall. Awake! awake! my Fatherland! It is thy Northern light that shines; This stirring march of Freedom's band The storm-song of thy mountain pines. Wake, dwellers where the day expires! And hear, in winds that sweep your lakes And fan your prairies' roaring fires, The signal-call that Freedom makes! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GARRISON by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT WENDELL PHILLIPS by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT THE DEATH OF SLAVERY by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT BOSTON HYMN; READ IN MUSIC HALL, JANUARY 1, 1863 by RALPH WALDO EMERSON FIFTY YEARS (1863-1913) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON WILLIAM LLOYD GARRISON by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL HENRY WARD BEECHER by CHARLES HENRY PHELPS JOHN BROWN OF OSAWATOMIE [OCTOBER 16, 1859] by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN AMERICA by JAMES MONROE WHITFIELD AMY WENTWORTH; FOR WILLIAM BRADFORD by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |
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