Are strong with struggling. Power at thee has launched His bolts, and with his lightnings smitten thee; They could not quench the life thou hast from heaven; Merciless Power has dug thy dungeon deep, And his swart armorers, by a thousand fires, Have forged thy chain; yet, while he deems thee bound, The links are shivered, and the prison-walls Fall outward; terribly thou springest forth, As springs the flame above a burning pile, And shoutest to the nations, who return 31 Thy shoutings, while the pale oppressor flies. Thy birthright was not given by human hands: Thou wert twin-born with man. In pleasant fields, While yet our race was few, thou sat'st with him, To tend the quiet flock and watch the stars, And teach the reed to utter simple airs. Thou by his side, amid the tangled wood, Didst war upon the panther and the wolf, His only foes; and thou with him didst draw The earliest furrow on the mountain-side, Soft with the deluge. Tyranny himself, Thy enemy, although of reverend look, Hoary with many years, and far obeyed, Is later born than thou; and as he meets The grave defiance of thine elder eye, The usurper trembles in his fastnesses. 40 Thy sword; nor yet, O Freedom! close thy lids In slumber; for thine enemy never sleeps And thou must watch and combat till the As, round the sleeping infant's feet, We softly fold the cradle-sheet; So plant we the apple-tree. 10 What plant we in this apple-tree? Shall haunt and sing and hide her nest; A shadow for the noontide hour, What plant we in this apple-tree? A world of blossoms for the bee, What plant we in this apple-tree? 20 30 While children come, with cries of glee, And seek them where the fragrant grass Betrays their bed to those who pass, At the foot of the apple-tree. Each year shall give this apple-tree And time shall waste this apple-tree. What shall the tasks of mercy be, Who planted this old apple-tree?' The gray-haired man shall answer them: 'A poet of the land was he, 61 70 Born in the rude but good old times; "T is said he made some quaint old rhymes, On planting the apple-tree.'' 1849. ROBERT OF LINCOLN 81 1864. MERRILY Swinging on brier and weed, Snug and safe is that nest of ours, 1 Compare a letter of Bryant's written November 17, 1846 (Godwin's Life of Bryant, vol. ii, pp. 27, 28): I have been, and am, at my place on Long Island, planting and transplanting trees, in the mist; sixty or seventy; some for shade; most for fruit. Hereafter, men, whose existence is at present merely possible, will gather pears from the trees which I have set in the ground, and wonder what old covey-for in those days the slang terms of the present time, by the ordinary process of change in languages, will have become classical-what old covey of past ages planted them? Or they will walk in the shade of the mulberry, apricot, and cherry trees that I have set in a row beside a green lane, and think, if they think at all about the matter -for who can tell what the great-grandchildren of ours will think about that they sprang up of themselves by the way.' Alice. One of your old-world stories, Such as you tell us by the winter fire, Uncle John. The story of the witch that Alice. Or water-fairies, such as you know how |