Classic Poem

BY JAMES H. PERKINS .

Can ye be slaves! (and as he spoke,
His proud lip curled, and from his eye
The light of conscious triumph broke,)
Will ye be slaves, when ye can die? —
The mountains that our Maker gave
To be our home, are bald and steep,
But there is room there for a grave;
The curling mist, and drifting cloud —
Are they too cold to be wrrior's shroud?
No. To that land our hearts are knit;
There do our loved ones' ashes sleep;
And floating on the midnight air,
Around each grassy hillock there,
The spirits of our fathers flit.
Their feet the rugged mountains trod,
Nor asked they that man's leave be given;
Their fetter was the will of God,
Their dungeon was the dome of heaven.
Let us none other know;
Brethren, myself a sacrifice
I offer to the foe.
If you have loved yon land —
If you have loved the young, the fair,
That you have left to tremble there,
While with your own right hand,
Your own heart's blood, you win for them a home;
If you have loved to hear
The carol of the mountaineer,
— Whose birthright 't is to roam, —
Come swelling loud, and long, and clear,
Upon the morning air;
If you would scorn to wear
The fetters of an earthly lord,
Unknown, accursed, and abhorr'd;
If, when these hills, around us now,
'Mid servent lightnings pass away,
And darkness veils yon sun, —
Within the halls of living day,
Before the never-dying One,
Ye would stand forth with dauntless brow, —
Come now with me; and when the breath
Is trodden from this iron frame,
And all this strength is lost in death,
Then be your battle-cry, my name.
And if ye win this day;
If Switzerland again is free —
When, gathered by the mountain tree,
Ye tell men of this fray,
And fight your battle once again,
Numbering o'er the martyred slain, —
May I not hope that I shall share
The burning tear, and whispered prayer?
But if ye win it not;
If Austria's tyrant shall have power,
To make ye mourn this day, and hour,
And all accurs'd this spot;
If you must live as slaves, or flee,
Weep if you will — for liberty;
Weep for the country of your birth;
Weep for yourselves, your race, the earth,
But not a tear for me.