Their death-shot shook the feudal tower,
And shattered slavery's chain as well;
On the sky's dome, as on a bell,
Its echo struck the world's great hour.

That fateful echo is not dumb:

The nations, listening to its sound
Wait, from a century's vantage-ground,
The holier triumphs yet to come,

Toll! Roland, toll!

Not now in old St. Bavon's tower

Not now at midnight hour

Not now from River Scheldt to Zuyder Zee,

But here, this side the sea!

Toll here, in broad, bright day!

For not by night awaits

A noble foe without the gates,

But perjured friends within betray,
And do the deed at noon!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Thy sound is not too soon

!

To Arms! Ring out the Leader's call!

Reëcho it from East to West,

Till every hero's breast

Shall swell beneath a soldier's crest!
Toll! Roland, toll!

Till cottager from cottage wall

Snatch pouch and powder-horn and gun!
The sire bequeathed them to the son,
When only half their work was done!
Toll! Roland, toll!

Till swords from scabbards leap!
Toll! Roland, toll!

What tears can widows weep

Less bitter than when brave men fall?

Toll! Roland, toll!

In shadowed hut and hall

Shall lie the soldier's pall,

And hearts shall break while graves are filled! Amen! So God has willed!

And may his grace anoint us all!

Toll! Roland, toll!

The Dragon on thy tower
Stands sentry to this hour,

And Freedom so stands safe in Ghent !
And merrier bells now ring,

And in the land's serene content
Men shout, "God save the King!"
Until the skies are rent!

So let it be ;

A kingly king is he

Who keeps his people free!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Ring out across the sea!

No longer They but We

Have now such need of thee!

Toll! Roland, toll!

Nor ever may thy throat

Keep dumb its warning note

Till Freedom's perils be outbraved!
Toll! Roland, toll!

Till Freedom's flag, wherever waved,

Shall shadow not a man enslaved!

Toll! Roland, toll!

From Northern lake to Southern strand,
Toll! Roland, toll!

Till friend and foe, at thy command,
Once more shall clasp each other's hand,
And shout, one-voiced, "God save the land!”
And love the land that God hath saved!

God bless, God bless, the glorious State!
Let her have way to battle!

She'll go where batteries crash with fate,
Or where thick rifles rattle.

Give her the Right, and let her try;
And then who can may press her;
She'll go straight on, or she will die :
God bless her, and God bless her!

66

CCXCIV.

ON THE SHORES OF TENNESSEE.

"MOVE my arm-chair, faithful Pompey,

In the sunshine bright and strong,

For this world is fading, Pompey
Massa won't be with you long;
And I fain would hear the south wind
Bring once more the sound to me,
Of the wavelets softly breaking

On the shores of Tennessee.

"Mournful though the ripples murmur,

As they still the story tell,
How no vessels float the banner
That I've loved so long and well,

I shall listen to their music,

Dreaming that again I see

Stars and Stripes on sloop and shallop,
Sailing up the Tennessee.

"And, Pompey, while old massa's waiting For death's last despatch to come,

If that exiled starry banner

Should come proudly sailing home, You shall greet it, slave no longerVoice and hand shall both be free That shouts and points to Union colors On the waves of Tennessee."

R. Lowell