Wsa4 poe : Sti fe rl Gmnr IP Mr. Alfred Kelcy Z. WITHERS. POEMS AFTER SLAVERY AND Others Descriptive and Patriotic BY ZACHARY WITHERS SAN FRANCISCO: PACIFIC COAST APPEAL PUBLISHING CO. 1905. cc c / COPYRIGHT 1905 BY 2. WITHERS CONTENTS. PAGE THE MONARCH OF MAY ! MOONLIGHT AMID THE HILLS 3 YOUTH 5 GREATNESS 6 FREEDOM TRIUMPHANT 7 DUTY g ODE TO BLACKMEN JO ODE TO BLACK WOMAN 17 APPEAL TO BLACKMEN 2O A MORAL 21 THE ANARCHIST 24 THE SECRET OF THE SOUL 26 HUMILITY OF THE SOUL 27 SACRAMENTO RIVER 28 MOUNT SHASTA 30 THE HARVEST ^ REFLECTION 35 THE OUTLAWED SPIRIT . . . * 36 EULOGY TO THE BRAVE 4 THE GHOST OF H^TE 43 THE GOLDEN STATE 44 OUR FLAG 46 M301019 VI ILLUSTRATIONS. AUTHOR'S PORTRAIT Facing the Title-page VII PREFACE. THESE my thoughts, engendered by the influence of my parents who were slaves, whom as a boy, I was wont to hear relate tiieir sad experiences under the regime of slavery, I herein humbly express. Should you read my verse, may you find therein expressed some thought in keeping with the high ideals of man. Z. WITHERS. Oakland, Cal., June 1st., 1905. THE MONARCH OF MAY. WE watch the clouds in yonder sky: They seem to kiss as they pass by. Moving by the soft wind that blows, Their shadows slowly come and go. The Muses gave this pleasant breeze Which murmurs softly through the trees A thought, for some quaint mystic place Where wearied rhythm should him give grace. 2 THE, MONARCH ,OF MAY ;' \ ; He> rightful then' was light and gay, For earth and sky gave him fair play; The sun did lend to him his light To search the earth from morn till night. Entranced were they by his kind way, And silent clouds they move away. The gentle trees both bow and sway; This monarch is the wind of May. MOONLIGHT AMID THE HILLS. A sense of awe doth fill the soul, When from without we feel The stillness that the night doth hold, And see them yonder dimly rise, Those distant hills in silvery light They seem to slumber in the night. Beautiful sight that moves the soul, That speaks to man in mystic ways, The silvery moonlight pale as day, Covering the earth in silent gray. Objects great and small their shadows cast, And in the dimness fade away. 4 MOONLIGHT AMID THE HILLS. The Unknown Hand moveth the shadow From the pale silvery mountain tower, The image of Infinite power To early morning's cheerful light With golden hues of beauteous red. The gray image of the night hath fled ! Can ye think of some picture grander, Something more sublime to see. The towering mountain and the forest, Enwrapped in this soft gray light, Motionless as though they were sleeping In the quietness of the night? YOUTH. When this great nation, rich and grand, With promising youth on every hand, For humanity's sake will not stand, Who then shall guide the youthful band? Wilt thou teach this thy precious youth, No faith to have in sacred truth, And that brute force the might of men Alone will serve the highest end ? To teach the youth such hideous ways, None dare boast of courageous days; For seed once sown in youthful heart, In the future, bear thou in mind The harvest O Nation, 'tis thine! Then in season, plant thou reason That these thy fitful youth shall see, Our flag waving on every sea. 6 GREATNESS Truth worships at the shrine of hope, Freedom, at the altar of God. Justice, then in triumphant state, Shall live to make our future great. At God's altar all men are free; Therefore we seek His sacred light. What then shall make our nation great, If Justice shall not rule the state? Speak, then, ye men who boast of might. Say ye thy wisdom calleth right To claim the stars of God are thine, With earth's riches fully inclined? To claim the right to rule the land With heart selfish in thy great plan ? From whence thy thoughts craven should be In this bright land of liberty? Greatness in men surely is born. Their lives mature from early morn. Each day the sun-lit soul gains strength, Struggles to win some high ascent, Where lives the hope of honest men God's cause on earth they may defend. Live then thy purpose known to be Fighting for men who shall be free. 7 FREEDOM TRIUMPHANT In ancient times we're told in rhymes, That thrones and empires decayed. No emperor thought of freedom's cause; 'Twas left for us in later days To receive this God-like spirit, And build a nation in that name: A Republic grand and stately. Freedom, we rejoice at thy light ! The lowlv and desolate thee sought, Giving each happiness and life, And every day our earthly task Is to keep thy spirit holy, That all men may be summoned To toil for freedom's bright glory. Peace will follow each footstep bright; In planting freedom's heavenly light, Should his kind purpose be so grand, Be it a nation or a man. That great spirit, wherever it dwells, Will fill the heart with Christian swells To noble live and be great. 8 FREEDOM TRIUMPHANT. For this great cry against subject lands, And men of other strange customs Know thou 'tis not a hero's cause, To abandon a heathen nation ! For God's light is Freedom's spirit, He shed his blood for all mankind. Then in duty could we blunder? Imprudence shall not harm our cause, Nor, shall we freedom's spirit luse. With wings flamed with eternal fire, Which human wisdom ne'er described, This spirit diiect came from God To be planted in every sod. Thus triumphs His infinite ways. 9 DUTY. Were fortune pleased with thy fair grace, And place upon thy head a crown, Cast thou thine eyes uplifted then To see if it be thij fair crown. Then frown ye not on humble birth, Whose calling least be not as thine, Some lowly wretch nature hath brought May yet do his greatest calling. If thou be not kindly inclined With humble walks that others find And mock with scorn their simple path, Thy own deeds then shall not be great, Though thou be ruler of a state; For force to rule and govern right, Bears nigh the soul and semblance then With humble walks of lowly men. Then if shouldst thou wear on thy head, The crown to thee fortune haih pledged, May thy kind soul profound in grace, Reach out to man in every place! Uplift with thy own firm embrace, Seeking all that in man is great; Enraptured then the soul will say, "Arise thou from thy lowly way !" ODE TO BLACKMEN THE clouds of slavery cast their gloom, The bitter storm of hatred rose; For the blacks, ; twas dreadful doom. The watchful Century bowed her head, In pity, sorrow and in dread. The Slave-king ascended high, But only his, it was to die ! Thus came he to chain the soul With thought of greed, a lust for gold, To sink the skies beneath the earth, For naught he saw in human worth, Nor cared for man, or honored birth; The man to him was but a name Secured in bondage, 'twas a gain. ODE TO BLACKMEN 1 1 We laugh to scorn your cruel chain, A haunting misery, 'tis your gain. He who would claim the freedman's soul, Wears bonds of misery we are told, His hopes are blighted by the name. ' Tis sorrow, then the awful shame That marks the passion for fettered gain. The outward life we lived in shame. Our souls were free from wicked claim. Rich may be thy style and grand, The world's great power at thy command, But shall the soul of man not die Whose days were lived in lie's deceit, Thus lost forever by ignoble gain? It matters little in thy easy sway, If freedman is ruled in selfish way, His liberty, too, thou mayst forsake, With power to lynch and burn at stake. With thought and reason to prescribe A "Jim Crow" car for him to ride, And rear thy poisonous, cruel hate. 12 ODE TO BLACKMEN We may not be empowered to dwell In gaudy mansions and compel A single tribute for the truth; Nor could our fathers seek in youth, True wealth and culture's grandest aim Beneath thy foolish, gloomy reign, Or live the ways of usefulness. Born of flesh and blood to dwell A slave, but only for a spell ! Awake ! bondsmen, ye all are free ! Hear ye the cry of liberty ! In the azure sky we see The power of human destiny; Arise thou, 'tis thy soul that's free! Who hears the tyrant at his gate? The crimson spirit to relate The wretched vision of his soul ? 'Tis this spirit of greed and gold, Whose cup with bitterness doth flow, It shares with discontented wail That mocks its own dark infamy ! ODE TO BLACKMEN 13 A slave is he with hopes fading Bending beneath the evil will. A life is often cursed with blight, And ended by some worthless aim, When others we would fetter fast With blood-cursed slavery reign. At last, slaves perish with their chains ! Will ye, O ! men of nations great, Forsake them in this sun-lit land, They whose lives are latent forces Imbued with patriotic zeal? They who feel the mystic spirit Bidding them 'tis faith that conquers, 'Tis love that bids our nation stand? Since ye have grown a nation strong For rich, the poor, the blind, A vast Republic grand, sublime, Think ye once why came this nation During the morn of her creation With queer and strange and new relation, The slave ship and the fettered hand? 14 ODE TO BLACKMEN Of slave ship ! ghastly horror ! Of slave ship ! dreaded fate ! Of slave ship ! cruel hate ! Naught but greed e'er brought her, Naught but sorrow wrought her, Naught but wrong e'er brought her, To thy peaceful shore ! Long misery and inhuman pangs With this stranger followed then. At once cruelty sought to conquer, Enslaved then a race of men ! Think ye in peace the tide be over, And thou at ease and mildly sober In that the tyrant made his goal? Bow low, ye man, pity their sorrow, And pray ye that before to-morrow, Some spirit new of truth '11 incline, Some kind fate will be found as thine, And change thy soul from dust and ash, From slavery, murder and rapine. Bow low, ye men, with tears of sorrow ! ODE TO BLACKMEN " I 5 The spirit of tyrannical power Is now the danger of the hour. Slavery then is human sorrow Where the blighted conscience drifting, Reapeth sadness, woes untold: A wasted, suffering, shattered soul, Betrayed, laden 'neath its heavy load. No man dare claim that a nation Who were enslaved by vile dictation, Are unfitted to enjoy this land, For when the national honor Called for men to still the strife The slave with bared head proudly Offered to her his manly life. Not thee, but he, then, must be free In living hopes and power; Not thee, but he, we must decree, Hero of the darkest hour. Thy boastful way was never right; Thy might and power are dying: Hark, the soul repining, repining ! 1 6 ODE TO BLACKMEN As the sun gives light and warning Of the snares that line thy way, As the sun gives hope that liveth In the glory of the day, Learn ye lessons of the sunlight That the soul of man is free, And fettered chains will never conquer ! Now, your disdain is lost forever ! All ye whose aims would chain the soul ! Grim slavery lost ten thousand battles Long ere his name with truth was told; He lost them then and lost forever ! Ten thousand victories we won, We who have freedom of the soul ! ODE TO BLACKWOMAN Verse upon verse has been written, Naught was said of thee; The learned of all ages To thee no word decreed. Our literature and pictures Dare not paint thy face. Woman's sphere on earth seems chosen, But not for thee a place ? Watch we for some queer longing And inquiring lines to relate, Some token of her sorrow, Some vision of her fate? Was she not once a maiden, Her virtue was her crown? She ruled in some grand place With naive and modest grace. 1 8 ODE TO BLACKWOMAN But why hath she no place In literature and song ? No thought, no word, no picture, Amid this clamoring throng? And woman's place we've said Most sacred shall be kept, And yet amid this gleaming No word for her reflect ? When she did rule a sunny land, Her voice was free to sing, Her warbling notes and echoing song Did make the forest ring. And still no place amid this throng, This clamoring mighty host? And yet they look upon her sorrow, To her they claim no wrong? Strange these truths should be concealed, Strange tales must fate reveal. Hark ! time doth tell the truthful story ! Her woes, her wrongs are many; They'll chill her tears of sorrow, And heated rage of passion borrow, And turn to stone her heart of flesh Through deeds of shame and selfishness. ODE TO BLACKWOMAN 19 A fate as cruel as the tomb, Where Death enshrined rules, She lives and speaketh there no tune, For fear doth make her dread. Were she this story in lines to say, Her foes would lose the pay Of fame, of home and renown And sink beneath the public frown. Bleeding, sorrowing, weeping heart, May thy laden cross 'come light ! Thou heroine of earth's dark night, The world shall see thy mission then ! Thy honor shall all men defend ! That Arian hue upon thy face, Shall mark forever the unjust race. Thy piteous soul ne'er sinned. 20 APPEAL TO BLACKMEN How many days and weeks and years> How much of thought, kindness and tears, How many prayers both great and strong, With years of sighing, patience long, Shall be giv'n thee in thy lone way, Ere thou shalt turn from piteous fate, That leaves no mark save disgust, hate? O Blackman ! tell me, tell me, pray ! Has not the power of the great Thy life turned from saddened disgrace ? Has not wisdom's patriotic pride Sought thee in lowliness to rise ? Shall it be thee heedless to live In life sorrowing cast aside With sin-cursed blight to mar thy way? O Blackman ! tell me, tell me, pray ! Wake up ! ye men from stupid grave, Where ruined conscience mocketh hope ! Awake ! sad fate, when men to save, Thou leav'st thy courage in the dust ! Mock ye the fate thy fathers knew, With slavery's shackles on their brow ? Liv'st thou content, stupid, to-day? O Blackman ! tell me, tell me, pray ! 21 A MORAL. IF OTHERS FO'G'N FOR YOU, In the sunny South, bright and fair, Where rice, cotton they have to spare, Where melons, too, they largely sow, With poultry they in ratio grow, There comes a story full of fun; If true, the wit is good and clear, The moral is worth our time to learn, As facts and truth seem to appear. An old ex-slave whose name was Ben, His days on earth seemed at an end Before a country squire was brought, For theft of his neighbor's hen. The judge uttered the charges grim, With dread that would make you shudder. Old Ben was calm he didn't flinch, He kiiew the judge it was a cinch. 22 A MORAL. The state did claim the felon's charge, And old Ben was condemned to cell As legal language harshly fell. The counsel said "There's more disgrace To steal from roost where hens do sleep, Than even change the seal of state. Most any deed of crimson fame, Is less beside the one here named." Old Ben was placed on his defense: No one to think, or pains to see That 'neath those wooly knots of gray, Far more the skill and cunning way A plea for justice he might say, Than they, when wealth and culture found The rules of Blackstone well compound, With Kent and Colly's text book sound. It is a custom of a court, Before prisoners are sent to cell, Let them their story rightful tell. The judge to the queer prisoner then, "Say why I should no sentense pass Upon this dark and fiendish crime, Or why I should not then impose Imprisonment or a heavy fine? " A MORAL. 23 " Say Juge, de crim mus make yu wrong, You no de war was on ar hands, Dat kaised qu're things on dis Ian, En I was den at yore kommand. U tole me den it was fo'g'n (^^^ En fo'g'n manie time saved yore life. I onli fo'gn de yudder night Kase fo'g'n den did save my life. " " Wei, ef fo'g'n for yu was rite, En fo'g'n yu no saved yore life, Why wus de fo'g'n a big crim When I fo'g'n de yudder night? De onli diffance dar could be 'Twix fo'g'n now en den, Wus dat den I fo'g'n fur yu, But now I did fo'g'n fur Ben. " 2 4 THE ANARCHIST. i A He'dark and cold and chilled in vein, The mind of anarchism ':his mien ! Too black his countenance to see, The noble image of liberty ! In this great land where men are free, Their lives to live in prosperous way, There could be none, but incarnate Who would murder or assassinate. Thy dull cause many years has grown, And seed seditious has been sown; The bitterness 'tween thee and right Has marked the passion of thy strife. This dismal call for blood shall cease ! This howling anger, fancied grief, Remorseless, cruel murmuring Shall die beneath thy lifeless form ! THE ANARCHIST. 25 Thy life grotesque, cheerless, crimson, To dust shall take its bitter flight, To darkness black, the densest night: Forever then shall cease its strife ! Like wormwood, bitter as the gall, Thou'st chased the empty thought of hate, And bitterness shall turn to thee, The crowning of thy hapless fate ! THE SECRET OF THE SOUL. The force that guides the ideal thought, The power that doth control, The mystic force that giveth strength, The strength of the soul; It is some deep and silent power, Whose wisdom God doth hold, Some kindly and forgiving thought The secret of the soul. HUMILITY OF THE SOUL. Eternal God our souls simple At Thy rich fountain kneeling bow, Pure wealth our lives thus free from stain As to Thy spirit reverence claim. With Thy kind ray of hope anew Grand is the heart that doth acquire. Behold, we see Thy majesty Great in all that kind nature gave ! The queer insight, the soul's bright gaze Uplifted with Thy all great plan, As quick 'tis he from murmuring clay Cast hopes all to Thy great beyond; And, rising like yon billowing cloud, Rushed by mighty winds of Time, Resolve, Thy throne on high to reach Then near Thy sacred altar bow. 28 SACRAMENTO RIVER. Flow on, O charming stream of life, From Sierra's snow-capped, dizzy heights ! ' Tis thee whose mission true is told In lines that move in foamy white, Where dance the bubbles in the spray. Sacramento flow, flow on thy way ! Flow on; thy winding course shall be By hills, o'er meadows to the sea ! Oft thy garments are clad in white By unseen objects in thy way. Sing loud with song cheerful and gay ! Sacramento flow, flow on thy way ! SACRAMENTO RIVER. 29 Flow on in thy enchanted course, Where nature's stretched beauteous scenes: By hillsides, rock and shrubbery bound, Behind forests of purest green, And meadows where the violets play ! Sacramento flow, flow on thy way ! Flow on, glad river, from day to day ! Thou art cheerful as thou art gay: A leap thou makest here and there; Thy sprays fast fly into the air. All nature kindly seems to say, Sacramento flow, flow on thy way ! Flow on, O river full of life ! Thy haunts must be some paradise, Where the Eternal man hath given thee grace To meander through this narrow space. My thoughts best fit me thus to say, Sacramento flow, flow on thy way ! 3 MOUNT SHASTA. O giant of Sierra's chain, We see thee in all thy glory ! With thy towering head wreathed in white: Serene this garb as purest light. Nearing the sky, thy rugged form To share the glory of the stars, Steal thou first beam of early morn ! And bid the sun gentle to rise ! We hail thee, giant, with all delight ! Grand is thy beauty infinite ! We view thy crown in full array, And inspiration seems to grow. Our hearts are filled with brightest glow As clouds upon thy summit go. Reach up, O Mount to Heaven's height And bear our love grateful to God. THE HARVEST. Ye men of fair and sunny South, If there ye lose your manly grace With those of an inferior race, The wrong that ye have sadly made On earth ye cannot long evade. Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow ! Could ye, O men, through foolish hate, Some ill pretensions contemplate Towards him whose faults your wrongs should be The cast of your dark enmity, The crudest passion of your mind ? Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow ! If then ye rear your castle still, Upon some mean and selfish will, Know now that ye are building wrong ! A rule if it be great and strong No mad ill will can ever build. Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow ! 32 THE HARVEST. Remember ye 'twas long ago, Where Afric's sunny tropics grow, The ancient sons of that dark land Slaves then were made at your command, Tyrants to serve with hearts of stone: Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow ! With venial pride ye crushed him down; For him there was no freedman's crown. Your boast of might "as always right" To check the growth of liberty's light Still lingers 'neath our glorious sky ! Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow ! And bending low your mind content, Thus lending sin to this intent, Ye bringeth misery to your midst; For sad the germ decadence still Clings fast upon your sturdy will. Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow ! THE HARVEST. 33 Your boast as free, and claim of right, Your love of home and its pure light, Your song of great and noble deeds, Your claim of glory's lasting fame, Are crushed beneath your erring name ! Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow! Will you not lend a helping hand To this despised unfavored man, Who suffers still the wound unhealed, And to your wisdom doth appeal For freedom's chance to love his land? Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow ! To build your altar true and great Upon an ideal future state That gives fair freedom her bright chance God's civilization to advance, Repeal your ill and biased rule ! Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow ! 34 THE HARVEST. Do not forget the truth as told Of ancient greed and lust for gold. The fall of kingdoms finds its way Through fettered hands of sad decay, The loss of love for man to man. Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow! Long as slavery's cursed chains To your fair conscience beareth claim, Our grandest hopes in thralldom live ! The love of nature then must die ! The harvest is your soul in chains ! Ye reap the seed ye thoughtless sow ! 35 REFLECTION. Angry passions at times doth hide The beauty of the fairest soul; Like blackened clouds before the storm Threatening the earth in dreadful scorn; But when the man is free to give The love that beams from nature's brow, Angry spirit, nor storming skies Will mar the peace where beauty lies. THE OUTLAWED SPIRIT. Not marked by sun's scorching rays, Nor clouds that hang some evil sky, Or cares that steal her beauty 'way, It's she whose color is black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away ! Thou mad'st the laws of this land, To protect women on every hand; But, strange, thou gav'st her naught to say. It's she whose color is black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away ! Know'st thou not that she could love, And bear to man the hope from above In woman's exalted glory ? It's she whose color is black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away ! THE OUTLAWED SPIRIT. 37 Dire grieved by cheerless past, Wronged by ignoble class, Bearing their burden as her pay; The woman whose color is black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away ! Cheerless worker, go on thy way; Thy starving soul must pity find Beyond the veil of human mind, Thou whose color is black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away ! Move on, O blighted hope, move on ! Arouse thy spirit from the dust, The carnal age, the age of lust; Thou whose color is black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away ! We see thy gloom from day to day, We watch the serpent with its prey, The poisonous sting and death it brings To her whose color is black 1 The outlawed spirit, the cast away 1 38 THE OUTLAWED SPIRIT. Thy chastity was cast aside To soothe the passions of evil tide Who wedded not thy sorrowing. 'Tis she whose color is black! The outlawed spirit, the cast away J They pitied not the sorrow wrought, But, demon like, fought for hope Of bondage, and misery's yoke For her whose color is black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away ! Can there be those with minds so great This dreadful sorrow could relate, Save her who suffered another's wrong? Nay, she alone whose color is black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away! Then live thou on, O spirit, and trust ! It's better to wed the woes of dust, Than cast away the throne of love ! Live on thou soul in black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away ! THE OUTLAWED SPIRIT. 39 Build high; thy hopes shall always live. Strive hard; thy soul shall fill With conquering courage, dominant will, Thou whose color is black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away ! Live thou then for a brighter day ! This woeful age shall pass away Beyond the cliffs of sorrow's bounds. Live on thou soul in black ! The outlawed spirit, the cast away ! EULOGY TO THE BRAVE. They who of bravery boast, are slaves; Mere blind are they and sad insane. The brave are they for freedom's cause A noble life unselfish gave. So liberty is thus enthroned On character of freedom's brave. Eternal rights, the right to life Are thus by manhood ever saved. O Thou, of mighty strength divine, Givest Thou not unto the brave Thy power and thy gracious strength That he might with purest intent To this great world bring real content, A happier life with grace and light, That we could ever serve Thee right With freedom's pride, exalted might? EULOGY TO THE BRAVE. 41 The brave are noble, kind and true, With God's spirit and nature too. No flattering words can mar thy name, Thou, whom honor doth thus give fame. With grace of all the Heavenly light From God's rich fountain beaming bright, Thy thoughts thus filled with purest gleam, Thou shalt humanity lead aright. Patriotism, brave man is thine ! It is a gift that is sublime ! A sense of justice Infinite source, Thy duty never to ignore. The throne of God thou wilt defend. On earth thou art a martyred man. No selfish pride thy soul dare claim Nor greed shall bear thy heart to shame. For freedom the brave e'er have fought Mid perils of earth's darkest night; Fought they for Truth in this great land That slavery made the densest night. Heroes,they fought to save the slave Whose chain near buried him 'neath the grave. That he could work for light and truth, Fits thee for thy great crown beyond. 42 EULOGY TO THE BRAVE. To thee we give the nation's trust, For thine own hand has always saved Our glorious flag from sunken grave, When evil sought the power to rule. Thy noble heart, O hero great, Thy deeds that thou unselfish made On liberty's altar, mankind to save, Doth give thee title of the Brave ! No single boundary line could find The power this virtue to confine. Beyond the ocean deep and blue Where kingly hardships constant grew, The glorious Stars and Stripes of right Were raised beneath God's fitting light ! May angels watch these heroes then; Humanity's cause they did defend ! 43 THE GHOST OF HATE. Clothed with a mantle of the night, Dark, shapeless form that sees no light, Thy claim was once the soul of man, For Satan, quick with keen insight Had thought of man in his mild state, Loosed then from Hell, the Ghost of Hate. Released, this spirit of remorse, Swift as a courier in his flight, Sped on in his dark evil course, From that abyss of dismal night, Conquering with might, then to subdue The earth at length with this strange blight. Shadows black like the pall of night Cast grim reflections here and there; The sky seemed, once fair, to compare With ills of death's dark, deep despair. But God gave man again his state, Then chained in Death, the Ghost of Hate. 44 THE GOLDEN STATE. Rise high, fair hopes of Golden State ! Ye mountains, rejoice in her story ! Build thou to the clouds and beyond! Live thou then on in thy glory ! Unfold to thy great commonwealth, All that thou hast that is noble. ' Tis not thy wealth thou wiliest to save But it is thy spirit golden. Arise, fair hopes, God give thee grace ' Neath one fair sky in one grand West ! Thy beauty grand enthrills the soul. Thy forests green, thy skies of gold, Thy mountains steep and sheer incline Where nature bids the forest climb; Thy rivers too, and ocean blue, They lend to thy enchanting clime. Then all that's here awakening find, ' Mid these kind folds that are sublime, 'Tis love's purity, where beauty's found ' Neath one fair sky in one grand West ! THE GOLDEN STATE. 45 Then proud our anxious head shall see, The Western triumph, the Western free. And proud our wishes then shall be, With every effort progress we, 'Neath fairest skies that God e'er gave ! Aroused, thy courage once has made A fitting home for every man. Unite as unity where affinity bounds, Where power as strength of God is found, 'Neath one fair sky, in one grand West! 4 6 OUR FLAG. We'll never live to see the day Our great and noble Flag swept ' way, By acts grewsome and tales of blood. Thrice no! the honored man doth say. With blood the Stars and Stripes were raised A glorious tribute to the sky. No knavish pride shall stretch the hand The Stars of God to bear them down ! Thus filled with manly pride to see This noble banner waving high, Fondly our thoughts towards God doth flee. With His bright image bearing nigh We feel the soul of Him that gave For man these colors grand to wave; And ever shall this symbol stand, His love, our hope for every man. OUR FLAG. 47 Wave on, colors of our bright hope, ' Neath fairy breezes of the sky; Wave on, our greatest power wake, As we see thy rich colors fly ! No greater gift could God give man, Or man to man transfer and give, Blessed by every hope to live, Wave on, bright flag for every man ! YA 02098 M3010J9 , < i THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY