Fraternity-Testvériség, 1941 (19. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1941-07-01 / 7. szám
12 TESTVÉRISÉG Spirits of sages long departed! Look downward from your homes on high; Behold the firm — the noble-hearted, That struggling ’neath their tyrants lie! Give strength to him, who late proclaiming The Magyar’s cause on freedom’s strand, For Liberty and Right is aiming, And sheds a lustre o’er our land. All honor to that voice which rises Unawed above the timid cry, Which every despot King despises, And prouder waves his scourge on high! And may the sun of Hope uprearing, And gilding Europe’s smoking plains, While the poor captive’s heart ’tis cheering, Melt from his limbs the tyrant’s chains! U. S. Ship Preble, April, 1852 E. Curtis Hine, U. S. N. From: “Gleason's Pictorial Drawing Room Companion” Also in the “Semi-Weekly Tribune,” April 6, 1852. SONNETS TO KOSSUTH I. Thou luminous soul, that with heroic voice Dost plead for thy betrayed, oppressed race — And all that nation’s heart, in thine, embrace — We marvel not thou wert the Magyar’s choice Thine eloquent breath, with such warm might of claim, The moving story of thy land hath told, All true men in their breasts her woes enfold — She stands apparelled in great deed of Fame! Proud boast! Thou bear’st a name by Tyrants feared. True joy! It maketh Hope’s pure forehead bright. That despots hate, by Freemen is revered — Behind thy land’s eclipse there waiteth light! One Beacon through a whole dark land can shine, And hosts of Hero-hearts in one combine. II. Thou foremost man, that in a stranger land, And in an alien tongue, by Shakspere taught, Hast freedom's mental battle grandly fought, Taking, clear visioned, thy Prophetic stand. Beyond the narrow Present looking on, As non in Europe else can look, but thee! Thus, seeing light where mist seemed but to be, Men’s kindling hearts brood less on chances gone. Thy Banner—Poland, and the Magyar land! An eagle sight and spirit in thy soul, Ever with upraised voice, and warning hand, Pointing the path that leads to Freedom’s goal. The glimmer of two Hope-stars still is given, To the true Future’s o’ercast murky Heaven. William Wilson. From: Gathered Together Poems By William Wilson, London, 1860.
