Classic Poem

Read at the Celebration of the Fiftieth Anniversary of his Settlement in Philadelphia.

Standing upon the summit of thy years,
Dear elder brother, what dost thou behold,
Along the way thy tireless feet have come
From that far day, when young and fresh and bold,
Hearing a voice that called thee from on high,
Thou answeredst quickly, " Father, here am I. "

Fain would we see all that thine eyes behold;
And yet not all, for there is secret store
Of joy and sorrow in each private heart,
To which no stranger openeth the door.
But thou canst speak of many things beside,
While we a little space with thee abide.

Tell us of those who fifty years ago
Started thee forth upon thy sacred quest,
Who all have gone before thee, each alone,
To seek and find the Islands of the Blest.
To-day methinks that there as well as here
Is kept all tenderly thy golden year.

Tell us, for thou didst know and love him well,
Of C HANNING'S face, — of those dilating eyes
That seemed to catch, while he was with us here,
Glimpses of things beyond the upper skies.
Tell us of that weak voice, which was so strong
To cleave asunder every form of wrong.

Thou hast had good companions on thy way;
G ANNETT was with thee in his ardent prime,
And with thee still when outward feebleness
But made his spirit seem the more sublime,
Till, like another prophet, summoned higher,
He found, like him, a chariot of fire.

And that beloved disciple was thy friend,
Whose heart was blither than the name he bore,
Who yet could hide the tenderness of M AY ,
And, bleaker than December, downward pour
The tempest of his wrath on slavery's lie,
And all that takes from man's humanity.

And thou hast walked with our Saint T HEODORE ,
Our warrior-saint, well-named the gift of God,
Whose manful hate of every hateful thing
Blossomed with pity, e'en as Aaron's rod,
And lips that cursed the priest and Pharisee
Gathered more honey than the wilding bee.

All these are gone, and S UMNER'S heart beneath
Should make more pure the yet untainted snow;
Our one great statesman of these latter days,
Happy wert thou his other side to know;
To call him friend, whom ages yet unborn
Shall love tenfold for every breath of scorn.

All these are gone, but one is with us still,
So frail that half we deem she will not die,
But slow exhale her earthly part away,
And wear e'en here the vesture of the sky.
L UCRETIA , blessed among women she,
Dear friend of Truth, and Peace, and Liberty.

And one, whose form is as the Son of Man,
Has been with thee through all these busy years;
Holden our eyes, and He to us has seemed
As one seen dimly through a mist of tears;
But thou hast seen Him clearly face to face,
And told us of His sweetness and His grace.

Standing upon the summit of thy years,
Dear elder brother, thou canst see the day
When slavery's curse had sway in all the land,
And thou art here, and that has passed away.
We give thee joy that in its hour of pride
Thy voice and hand were on the weaker side.

But from thy clear and lofty eminence
Let not thine eyes be ever backward turned,
For thou canst see before as cannot we
Who have not yet thy point of vantage earned.
Tell us of what thou seest in the years
That look so strange, seen through our hopes and fears.

Nothing we know to shake thy steadfast mind;
Nothing to quench thy heart with doubt or fear;
But higher truth and holier love revealed.
And justice growing to man's heart more dear.
And everywhere beneath high heaven's cope,
A deeper trust, a larger, better hope.

There are some here that shall not taste of death
Till they have seen the kingdom come, with power.
O brave forerunner, wheresoe'er thou art,
Thou wilt be glad with us in that glad hour.
Farewell! Until we somewhere meet again,
We know in whom we have believed. Amen.