Feb. 22, 1732
BRIGHT natal morn! what face appears
Beyond the rolling mist of years?
A face whose loftiest traits, combine
All virtues of a stainless line
Passed from leal sire to loyal son;
The face of him whose steadfast zeal
Drew harmonies of law and right
From chaos and anarchic night:
Who with a power serene as Fate's
Wrought from rude hordes of turbulent States
The grandeur of our commonweal:--
All hail! all hail! to Washington!
Freedom he wooed in such brave guise,
Men gazing in her luminous eyes
Beheld all heaven reflected shine
Far down those sapphire orbs divine:
And, worshipped her so chastely won;
If still she panted, fresh from strife,
And blood-stains flecked her garment's rim,
They could not make it's whiteness dim;
For, shed by hearts sublimely true,
Such drops are changed to sacred dew.
The chrism of patriot light and life,--
Baptizing first our Washington.
For cloudless years, benignant still.
This Freedom worked her bounteous will;--
Mingling with homespun man and maid,
Her pale cheek caught a browner shade
In fields where harvest toils were done;
To theirs she toned her rhythmic tongue
Veiling in part her goddess-mien:
The woman smiled above the queen;
While stationed always by her side,
Men saw--as bridegroom near his bride,
(O bride, forever fair and young!)--
Her chosen hero--Washington!
She wove for him a civic crown;
She made so pure his hale renown,
All glories of the antique days,
Waned in the clear, immaculate blaze
Poured from his nature's noontide sun;
No slave of folly's catchword school,
His instincts proud of blood and race
She tempered with sweet, human grace,
Till his broad being's rounded flow
Sea-like, embraced the high and low,
Swayed by the golden-sceptred rule,
The equal will of Washington.
His influence spread so wide and deep,
Earth's fettered millions stirred in sleep;
And murmurs born of wakening flame
On the wild winds of twilight came
From lands by despot-swarms o'errun;
They too would win the priceless boon
Of Freedom's dower;--they too would see,
And clasp the robes of Liberty;
But, throned within the virgin west,
She heard them not;--she loved to rest
In dew-lit dawn and tranquil noon,
Next the strong heart of Washington!
Through shower and sun the seasons rolled,
November's gray and April's gold;
They only raised (more calmly grand)
His genius of supreme command,
Whose course, in blood and wrath begun,
Grew gentler, as the mellowing lights
Of peace made beauteous sky and sod;
His evening came;--he walked with God;
And down life's gradual sunset-slope,
He hearkened to a heavenly hope;--
"Look up! behold the fadeless heights
Which rise to greet thee,--Washington!"
He dies! the nations hold their breath!
He dies! but is he thrall to Death?--
Thousands who quaff earth's sunshine free,
Are less alive on earth than he;
Lacking that power which thrills through none
But God's elect, that wingèd spell
Which like miraculous lightning darts
Electric to all noble hearts;--
Flashed from his soul's sublimer sphere,
'Tis still a matchless influence here!
Majestic spirit! all is well,
Where'er thou rulest,--Washington!
