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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420726" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Landmarks</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I.<br>THROUGH the streets of Marblehead<br>Fast the red-winged terror sped;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blasting, withering, on it came,<br>With its hundred tongues of flame,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where St. Michael's on its way<br>Stood like chained Andromeda,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Waiting on the rock, like her,<br>Swift doom or deliverer!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Church that, after sea-moss grew<br>Over walls no longer new,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Counted generations five,<br>Four entombed and one alive;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heard the martial thousand tread<br>Battleward from Marblehead;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Saw within the rock-walled bay<br>Treville's liked pennons play,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the fisher's dory met<br>By the barge of Lafayette,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Telling good news in advance<br>Of the coming fleet of France!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Church to reverend memories, dear,<br>Quaint in desk and chandelier;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Bell, whose century-rusted tongue<br>Burials tolled and bridals rung;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Loft, whose tiny organ kept<br>Keys that Snetzler's hand had swept;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Altar, o'er whose tablet old<br>Sinai's law its thunders rolled!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Suddenly the sharp cry came<br>'Look! St. Michael's is aflame!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Round the low tower wall the fire<br>Snake-like wound its coil of ire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sacred in its gray respect<br>From the jealousies of sect,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Save it,' seemed the thought of all,<br>'Save it, though our roof-trees fall!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Up the tower the young men sprung;<br>One, the bravest, outward swung</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By the rope, whose kindling strands<br>Smoked beneath the holder's hands,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Smiting down with strokes of power<br>Burning fragments from the tower.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then the gazing crowd beneath<br>Broke the painful pause of breath;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Brave men cheered from street to street,<br>With home's ashes at their feet;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Houseless women kerchiefs waved:<br>'Thank the Lord! St. Michael's saved!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II.<br>In the heart of Boston town<br>Stands the church of old renown,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From whose walls the impulse went<br>Which set free a continent;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From whose pulpit's oracle<br>Prophecies of freedom fell;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And whose steeple-rocking din<br>Rang the nation's birth-day in!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Standing at this very hour<br>Perilled like St. Michael's tower,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Held not in the clasp of flame,<br>But by mammon's grasping claim.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Shall it be of Boston said<br>She is shamed by Marblehead?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">City of our pride! as there,<br>Hast thou none to do and dare?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Life was risked for Michael's shrine;<br>Shall not wealth be staked for thine?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Woe to thee, when men shall search<br>Vainly for the Old South Church;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When from Neck to Boston Stone,<br>All thy pride of place is gone;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When from Bay and railroad car,<br>Stretched before them wide and far,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Men shall only see a great<br>Wilderness of brick and slate,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Every holy spot o'erlaid<br>By the commonplace of trade!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">City of our love': to thee<br>Duty is but destiny.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">True to all thy record saith,<br>Keep with thy traditions faith;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ere occasion's overpast,<br>Hold its flowing forelock fast;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Honor still the precedents<br>Of a grand munificence;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In thy old historic way<br>Give, as thou didst yesterday</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At the South-land's call, or on<br>Need's demand from fired St. John.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Set thy Church's muffled bell<br>Free the generous deed to tell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let thy loyal hearts rejoice<br>In the glad, sonorous voice,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ringing from the brazen mouth<br>Of the bell of the Old South,--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ringing clearly, with a will,<br>'What she was is Boston still!'</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=420726" data-title="The Landmarks de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="I.
THROUGH the streets of Marblehead
Fast the red-winged terror sped;

Blasting, withering, on it came,
With its hundred tongues of flame,

Where St. Michael's on its way
Stood like chained Andromeda,

Waiting on the rock, like her,
Swift doom or ..."></div>
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