THE FLOATING STRAW. And when the night unveils its face, I may float, unharmed, in my usual place, Among the shells In the ocean dells The ships, the crews, and the captains lie, May pleasant breezes waft them home 331 A QUESTION ANSWERED WHAT to do to make thy fame Live beyond thee in the tomb? And thine honorable name Shine, a star, through History's gloom? Seize the Spirit of thy Time, Take the measure of his height, Look into his eyes sublime, And imbue thee with their light. Know his words e'er they are spoken, Firm, persuasive, and unbroken, Think whate'er the Spirit thinks, A QUESTION ANSWERED. And whate'er thy medium be, Canvas, stone, or printed sheet, Fiction, or philosophy, Or a ballad for the street; Or, perchance, with passion fraught, Tell the people all thy thought, And the world shall be thine own. 333 WHAT MIGHT BE DONE. WHAT might be done if men were wise What glorious deeds, my suffering brother, Would they unite, In love and right, And cease their scorn of one another? Oppression's heart might be imbued From shore to shore, Light on the eyes of mental blindness. All slavery, warfare, lies, and wrongs, To each man born, Be free as warmth in summer weather. The meanest wretch that ever trod, The deepest sunk in guilt and sorrow, In self-respect, And share the teeming world to-morrow. |