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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420567" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Massachusetts To Virginia</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The blast from Freedom's Northern hills, upon its Southern way,<br>Bears greeting to Virginia from Massachusetts Bay:<br>No word of haughty challenging, nor battle bugle's peal,<br>Nor steady tread of marching files, nor clang of horsemen's steel,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No trains of deep-mouthed cannon along our highways go;<br>Around our silent arsenals untrodden lies the snow;<br>And to the land-breeze of our ports, upon their errands far,<br>A thousand sails of commerce swell, but none are spread for war.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We hear thy threats, Virginia! thy stormy words and high<br>Swell harshly on the Southern winds which melt along our sky;<br>Yet not one brown, hard hand foregoes its honest labor here,<br>No hewer of our mountain oaks suspends his axe in fear.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wild are the waves which lash the reefs along St. George's bank;<br>Cold on the shores of Labrador the fog lies white and dank;<br>Through storm, and wave, and blinding mist, stout are the hearts which man<br>The fishing-smacks of Marblehead, the sea-boats of Cape Ann.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The cold north light and wintry sun glare on their icy forms,<br>Bent grimly o'er their straining lines or wrestling with the storms;<br>Free as the winds they drive before, rough as the waves they roam,<br>They laugh to scorn the slaver's threat against their rocky home.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What means the Old Dominion? Hath she forgot the day<br>When o'er her conquered valleys swept the Briton's steel array?<br>How, side by side with sons of hers, the Massachusetts men<br>Encountered Tarleton's charge of fire, and stout Cornwallis, then?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Forgets she how the Bay State, in answer to the call<br>Of her old House of Burgesses, spoke out from Faneuil Hall?<br>When, echoing back her Henry's cry, came pulsing on each breath<br>Of Northern winds the thrilling sounds of 'Liberty or Death!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">What asks the Old Dominion? If now her sons have proved<br>False to their fathers' memory, false to the faith they loved;<br>If she can scoff at Freedom, and its great charter spurn,<br>Must we of Massachusetts from truth and duty turn?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We hunt your bondmen, flying from Slavery's hateful hell;<br>Our voices, at your bidding, take up the bloodhound's yell;<br>We gather, at your summons, above our fathers' graves,<br>From Freedom's holy altar-horns to tear your wretched slaves!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thank God! not yet so vilely can Massachusetts bow;<br>The spirit of her early time is with her even now;<br>Dream not because her Pilgrim blood moves slow and calm and cool,<br>She thus can stoop her chainless neck, a sister's slave and tool!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All that a sister State should do, all that a free State may,<br>Heart, hand, and purse we proffer, as in our early day;<br>But that one dark loathsome burden ye must stagger with alone,<br>And reap the bitter harvest which ye yourselves have sown!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hold, while ye may, your struggling slaves, and burden God's free air<br>With woman's shriek beneath the lash, and manhood's wild despair;<br>Cling closer to the 'cleaving curse' that writes upon your plains<br>The blasting of Almighty wrath against a land of chains.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still shame your gallant ancestry, the cavaliers of old,<br>By watching round the shambles where human flesh is sold;<br>Gloat o'er the new-born child, and count his market value, when<br>The maddened mother's cry of woe shall pierce the slaver's den!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lower than plummet soundeth, sink the Virginia name;<br>Plant, if ye will, your fathers' graves with rankest weeds of shame;<br>Be, if ye will, the scandal of God's fair universe;<br>We wash our hands forever of your sin and shame and curse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A voice from lips whereon the coal from Freedom's shrine hath been,<br>Thrilled, as but yesterday, the hearts of Berkshire's mountain men:<br>The echoes of that solemn voice are sadly lingering still<br>In all our sunny valleys, on every wind-swept hill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And when the prowling man-thief came hunting for his prey<br>Beneath the very shadow of Bunker's shaft of gray,<br>How, through the free lips of the son, the father's warning spoke;<br>How, from its bonds of trade and sect, the Pilgrim city broke!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A hundred thousand right arms were lifted up on high,<br>A hundred thousand voices sent back their loud reply;<br>Through the thronged towns of Essex the startling summons rang,<br>And up from bench and loom and wheel her young mechanics sprang!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The voice of free, broad Middlesex, of thousands as of one,<br>The shaft of Bunker calling to that Lexington;<br>From Norfolk's ancient villages, from Plymouth's rocky bound<br>To where Nantucket feels the arms of ocean close to her round;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From rich and rural Worcester, where through the calm repose<br>Of cultured vales and fringing woods the gentle Nashua flows,<br>To where Wachuset's wintry blasts the mountain larches stir,<br>Swelled up to Heaven the thrilling cry of 'God save Latimer!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And sandy Barnstable rose up, wet with the salt sea spray;<br>And Bristol sent her answering shout down Narragansett Bay!<br>Along the broad Connecticut old Hampden felt the thrill,<br>And the cheer of Hampshire's woodmen swept down from Holyoke Hill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The voice of Massachusetts! Of her free sons and daughters,<br>Deep calling unto deep aloud, the sound of many waters!<br>Against the burden of that voice what tyrant power shall stand?<br>No fetters in the Bay State! No slave upon her land!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Look to it well, Virginians! In calmness we have borne,<br>In answer to our faith and trust, your insult and your scorn;<br>You've spurned our kindest counsels; you've hunted for our lives;<br>And shaken round our hearths and homes your manacles and gyves!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We wage no war, we lift no arm, we fling no torch within<br>The fire-damps of the quaking mine beneath your soil of sin;<br>We leave ye with your bondmen, to wrestle, while ye can,<br>With the strong upward tendencies and God-like soul of man!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But for us and for our children, the vow which we have given<br>For freedom and humanity is registered in heaven;<br>No slave-hunt in our borders, - no pirate on our strand!<br>No fetters in the Bay State, - no slave upon our land!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420567" data-title="Massachusetts To Virginia de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="The blast from Freedom's Northern hills, upon its Southern way,
Bears greeting to Virginia from Massachusetts Bay:
No word of haughty challenging, nor battle bugle's peal,
Nor steady tread of marching files, nor clang of horsemen's steel,

No trai..."></div>
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