Addresses, historical and patriotic, centennial and quadrennial, delivered in the several states of the Union, July 4th, 1876-1883.

Front matter

Book *A /6&

''It still waves.''

Forever float that standard sheet."

Preface

This work, which groups together the choicest of the eloquent and patriotic Orations, Addresses and Poems, delivered in the several States of the Union, on our Centennial Anniversary, being issued under the auspices of the respective authors — the documents having been submitted to their critical supervision, — forms an authorized and enduring monument of that memorable epoch in our national annals. Amonor these clustered flowers of rhetoric will be found many of singular beauty and grace ; forming as they do, a many-hued garland of rare excellence, worthy of the occasion which celebrates the festival and fruitage of our first century. A glance at the table of contents will reveal a brilliant array of distinguished names as contributors to the volume «? amonof their number are the following : — Hon. W. M. Evarts, Hon. R. C. Winthrop, Rev. Dr. Storrs, Ex-Gov. Seymour, Rev. Dr. L. Bacon, Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, Dr. Henry Barnard, Gov. Cheney, Col. R. G. Ingersoll, Gov. Cullora, Rev. Dr. C. H. Fowler, Chancellor Parker, Gen. J. A. Dix, J. G. Whittier, W. C. Bryant, Bayard Taylor, &c., &c.

The work is cosmopolitan in the strictest sense of the term. It most strikingly illustrates the freedom of speech and opinion, characteristic of our country. Here are represented the varieties of social distinc-

PREF ACE.

lion among men, — white and black, Jew and Christian, Protestant and Catholic, and even the aboriginal Red Man of the forest. As a commemorative record of the most brilliant bursts of oratory, inspired by the enthusiasm of the occasion, and as a permanent treasury of historic data and valuable statistical information, the work will at once commend itself to all persons of culture and judgment. With such combined attractions, it makes its appeal, alike to the statesman, the student and the general reader.

Although primarily prepared for the American public it is no less adapted to the rest of the world, since it presents an epitome of our progress, and social, civil and political status among the nations.

Contents

[The orations following Pennsylvania are given in the order of the admission of the States into the Union. The oration from the District of Columbia follows the original thirteen States.J

Wm. Cullen Bryant ; Centennial Ode, [facsimile of original

manuscript] Frontispiece.

I

Bright on the banners of lily and rose Lo, the last sun of our century sets !

Wreath the black cannon that scowled on our foes, All but her friendships the Nation forgets ! All but her friends and their welcome forgets !

These are around her : But where are her foes ? Lo, while the sun of her century sets Peace with her garlands of lily and rose !

H.

Welcome ! a shout like the war trumpet's swell

Wakes the wild echoes that slumber around ! Welcome ! it quivers from Liberty's bell ;

Welcome ! the walls of her temple resound !

Hark ! the gray walls of her temple resound ! Fade the far voices o'er hill-side and dell ;

Welcome ! still whisper the echoes around ;

Welcome ! still trembles on Liberty's bell !

in.

Thrones of the Continents ! Isles of the Sea !

Yours are the garlands of peace we entwine ; Welcome, once more, to the land of the free, Shadowed alike by the palm and the pine ; Softly they murmur, the palm and the pine ; " Hushed is our strife, in the land of the free ; " Over your children their branches entwine, Thrones of the Continents ! Isles of the Sea !

THE NATIONAL ODE.

BY

BAYARD TAYLOR.

DELIVERED AT PHILADELPHIA. JULY 4, 1876.

Sun of the stately Day.

Let Asia into the shadow drift, Let Europe bask in thy ripened ray, And over the severing ocean lift A brow of broader splendor !

Give light to the eager eyes Of the Land that waits to behold thee rise : The gladness of morning lend her, With the triumph of noon attend her, And the peace of the vesper skies!

For lo ! she cometh now With hope on the lip and pride on the brow, Stronger, and dearer, and fairer, To smile on the love we bear her, — To live, as we dreamed her and sought her,

Liberty's latest daughter !

In the clefts of the rocks, in the secret places,

We found her traces ; On the hills, in the crash of woods that fall, We heard her call ; When the lines of battle broke, We saw her face in the fiery smoke ; Through toil, and anguish, and desolation,

We followed, and found her With the grace of a virgin Nation As a sacred zone around her !

Who shall rejoice

THE NATIONAL ODK. 23

With a righteous voice, Far-heard through the ages, if not she?

For the menace is dumb that defied her, The doubt is dead that denied her, And she stands acknowledged, and strong and free 1

Ah, hark ! the solemn undertone On every wind of human story blown.

A large, divinely-moulded Fate Questions the right and purpose of a State, And in its plan sublime

Our eras are the dust of Time.

The far-off Yesterday of power Creeps back with stealthy feet,

Invades the lordship of the hour, And at our banquet takes the unbidden seat. From all unchronicled and silent ages Before the Future first begot the Past,

Till History dared, at last, To write eternal words on granite pages ; From Egypt's tawny drift, and Assur's mound,

And where, uplifted, white and far,

Earth highest yearns to meet a star, And Man his manhood by the Ganges found, — Imperial heads, of old millennial sway,

And still by some pale splendor crowned, Chill as a corpse-light in our full-orbed day,

In ghostly grandeur rise And say, through stony lips and vacant eyes : "Thou that assertest freedom, power and fame, Declare to us thy claim ! "

On the shores of a Continent cast, She won the inviolate soil

24 OUll NATIONAL JUBILEE.

By loss of heirdom of all the Past, And faith in the royal right of Toil I She planted homes on the savage sod : Into the wilderness lone She walked with fearless feet In her hand the divining-rod, Till the veins of the mountains beat With fire of metal and force of stone !

She set the speed of the river-head

To turn the mills of her bread ; She drove her plowshare deep Through the prairie's thousand-centuried sleep ; To the South, and West, aud North, She called Pathfinder forth, Her faithful and sole companion, Where the flushed Sierra, snowy-starred,

Her way to the sunset barred, And the nameless rivers in thunder and foam Channeled the terrible canyon !

Nor paused, till her uttermost home Was built, in the smile of a softer sky

And the glory of beauty still to be, Where the haunted waves of Asia die On the strand of the world-wide seal

The race, in conquering, Some fierce Titanic joy of conquest knows

Whether in veins of serf or king, Our ancient blood beats restless in repose,

Challenge of Nature unsubdued Awaits not Man's defiant answer long;

For hardship, even as wrong, Provokes the level-eyed, heroic mood.

This for herself she did ; but that which lies, As over earth the skies,

THE NATIONAL ODE. 25

Blending all forms in one benignant glow, —

Crowned conscience, tender care, Justice, that answers every bondman's prayer, Freedom where Faith may lead or Thought may dare,

The power of minds that know,

Passion of hearts that feel,

Purchased by blood and woe,

Guarded by fire and steel. — Hath she secured ? What blazon on her shield,

In the clear Century's light

Shines to the world revealed, Declaring nobler triumph, born of Right?

Foreseen in the vision of sages, Foretold when martyrs bled, She was born of the longing ages, By the truth of the noble dead And the fate of the living fed !

No blood in her lightest veins Frets at remembered chains, Nor shame of bondage has bowed her head.

In her form and features still The unblenching Puritan will, Cavalier honor, Huguenot grace, The Quaker truth and sweetness, And the strength of the danger-girdled race Of Holland, blend in a proud completeness. From the homes of all, where her being began, She took what she gave to Man : Justice, that knew no station,

Belief, as soul decreed, Free air for aspiration, Free force for independent deed !

She takes, but to give again, As the sea returns the rivers in ruin ;

And gathers the chosen of her seed From the hunted of every crown and creed. Her Germany dwells by a gentler Rhine ; Her Ireland sees the old sunbursts shine ; Her France pursues some dream divine ; Her Norway keeps his mountain pine ; Her Italy waits by the wesern brine ;

And broad-based under all, Is planted England's oaken-hearted mood,

As rich in fortitude As e'er went worldward from the island-wall !

Fused in her candid light, To one strong race all races here unite : Tongues melt in hers, hereditary foemen Forget their sword and slogan, kith and clan ;

'Twas glory, once, to be a Roman ; She makes it glory, now, to be a Man !

Bow down !

Doff thine geonion crown !

One hour forget The glory, and recall the debt

Make expiation,

Of humbler mood, For the pride of thine exultation O'er peril conquered and strife subdued ! But half the right is wrested

When victory yields her prize, And half the marrow tested

When old endurance dies.

In the sight of them that love thee, Bow to the Greater that above thee !

He faileth not to smite The idle ownership of Right, Nor spares to sinews fresh from trial,

THE NATIONAL ODE.

And virtue schooled in long denial, The tests that wait for thee In larger perils of prosperity.

Here, at the Century's awful shrine, Bow to thy father's God— and thine !

Behold! she bendeth now, Humbling the chaplet of her hundredyears: There is a solemn sweetness on her brow, And in her eyes are sacred tears.

Can she forget.

In present joy, the burden of her debt, When for a captive race She grandly staked and won The total promise of her power begun,

And bared her bosom's grace To the sharp wound that inly tortures yet ?

Can she forget The million graves her young devotion set,

The hands that clasp above

From either side, in sad, returning love?

Can she forget ?

Here, where the Ruler of to-day,

The Citizen of to-morrow,

And equal thousands to rejoice and pray

Beside these holy walls are met, Her birth-cry, mixed of keenest bliss and sorrow' Where, on July's immortal morn Held forth, the People saw her head And shouted to the world : " The King is dead,

But lo ! the Heir is born I"

When fire of Youth, and sober trust of Age, In Farmer, Soldier, Priest and Sage, Arose and cast upon her Baptismal garments, — never robes so fair •

Clad prince in Old-World air, — Their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.

Arise ! Re-crown thy head, Eadiant with blessing of the Dead !

Bear from this hallowed place The prayer that purifies thy lips, The light of courage that defies eclipse, The rose of Man's new morning on thy face?

Let no iconoclast Invade thy rising Pantheon of the Past,

To make a blank where Adams stood, To touch the Father's sheathed and sacred blade, Spoil crowns on Jefferson and Franklin laid, Or wash from Freedom's feet the stain of Lincoln's blood 1 Hearken, as from that haunted hall Their voices call : " We lived and died for thee : We greatly dared that thou mightst be : So, from thy children still We claim denials which at last fulfil,' And freedom yielded to preserve thee free I Beside clear-hearted Right That smiles at Power's uplifted rod, Plant Duties that requite, And Order that sustains, upon thy sod,

And stand in stainless might Above all self, and only less than God ?"

Here may thy solemn challenge end, All-proving Past, and each discordance die

Of doubtful augury, Or in one choral with the Present blend,

And that half-heard, sweet harmony

THE NATI0NA1, ODE. 29

Of something nobler that our sons may see !

Though poignant memories burn Of days that were, and may again return, When thy fleet foot, O Huntress of the Woods, Thy slippery brinks of danger knew,

And dim the eyesight grew That was so sure in thine old solitudes, —

Yet stays some richer sense Won from the mixture of thine elements,

To guide the vagrant scheme, And winnow truth from each conflicting dream !

Yet in thy blood shall live Some force unspent, some essence primitive, To seize the highest use of things ; For Fate, to mold thee to her plan,

Denied thee food of kings, Withheld the udder and the orchard-fruits,

Fed thee with savage roots, And forced thy harsher milk from barren breasts of man !

O sacred Woman-Form, Of the first People's need and passion wrought, —

No thin, pale ghost of Thought, But fair as Morning and as heart's-blood warm, — Wearing thy priestly tiar on Judah's hills ; Clear-eyed beneath Athene's helm of gold;

Or from Rome's central seat Hearing the pulses of the Continents beat In thunder where her Jegions rolled ; Compact of high heroic hearts and wills,

Whose being circles all The selfless aims of men, and all fulfills ; Thyself not free, so long as one is thrall ; Goddess, that as a Nation lives,

And as a Nation dies,

That for her children as a man defies, And to her children as a mother gives, —

Take our fresh fealty now !

No more a Chieftainess, with wampum-zone

And feather-cinctured brow, — ~No more a new Britannia, grown To spread an equal banner to the breeze, And lift thy trident o'er the double seas ;

But with unborrowed crest, In thine own native beauty dressed, — The front of pure command, the unflinching eye, thine own !

Look up, look forth, and on !

There's light in the dawning sky : The clouds are parting, the night is gone :

Prepare for the work of the day !

Fallow thy pastures lie

And far thy shepherds stray, And the fields of thy vast domain

Are waiting for purer seed

Of knowledge, desire, and deed, For keener sunshine and mellower rain !

But keep thy garments pure : Pluck them back, with the old disdain,

From touch of the hands that stain !

So shall thy strength endure.

Transmute into good the gold of Gain, Compel to beauty thy ruder powers,

Till the bounty of coming hours

Shall plant, on thy fields apart, With the oak of Toil, the rose of Art !

Be watchful, and keep us so :

Be strong, and fear no foe :

Be just, and the world shall know I With the same love, love us, as we give ;

THE NATIONAL ODE. 31

And the day shall never come, That finds us weak or dumb To join and smite and cry In the great task, for thee to die, And the greater task, for thee to live 1

OUE NATIONAL BANNEK.

"A GRAND TRIUMPHAL MARCH."

BY DEXTER SMITH,

RENDERED AT PHILADELPHIA JULY, 4, 1876.

I.

O'er the high and o'er the lowly Floats that banner bright and holy

In the rays of freedom's sun ; In the nation's heart imbedded, O'er our Union newly wedded,

One in all, and all in one.

II. Let the banner wave forever

May its lustrous stars fade never,

Till the stars shall pale on high ; While there's right the wrong defeating, While there's hope in true heart beating,

Truth and freedom shall not die.