A Visit to Independence Hall Philadelphia by Mary E. Thropp Lyrics
Up
Through the shaded walk, into the State-House,
Walked Agatha and I, one clear, bright morn
Within the silent hall whence, years ago,
Issued the wisdom of those men whose
Float brightening down the tide of time
For ever. `T is a large, plain room, hung round.
With portraits, images of men whose names
Gleam brightly in the galaxy of fame.
Dependent from the ceiling, a chandelier
Pours intercepted light through countless prisms
In rain-bow radiance o’er the room. On high,
Mid-way of the far wall, over against
The entrance, perches the brazen eagle,
Our country’s emblem. Conspicuously
Beneath stands Washington in statue; here,
As in history, alone, unequalled.
Europe has had heroes, Albion
Her warrior-monarchs, and Corsica
Gave Gaul its red, far-flashing meteor:
But thou, America, young, favored land,
Hast fixed upon the firmament of fame
The cynosure of nations. ‘Come hither,’
Called my friend: ‘come! Sit here where I have sat:
I’ll tell my countrymen, when I return to Greece,
How I reclined me in the chair
Honored by Washington.’
I've never cringed
To mortal: no living wight bears spirit
Prouder than my own; but reverently
Before that chair I stood, nor dared to touch
Later, and up the winding stairs we took
Our toilsome way e’en to the interior
Of the clock; itself a room, its mechanism
In the centre; the four circular windows
Its four faces; to which the citizens
That throng the streets look up and see
On every side of the square tower, true
As truth itself their faithful monitor.
Down in the room below, the pendulum,
That great pulse-beat of time, swings to-and-fro.
Up, on we went, nor passed unnoticing
The bell whose iron mouth to all the land
Sang out the song of freedom! Pacific
Heard it borne along by echoing Andes;
And, kneeling on the shore, its mighty waves
Took up the tune; and ever on their march
From pole to pole, they chant it forth afar
To listening sands in solemn unison.
Higher and still more high, and then we stood
Within the open steeple. ‘How glorious!’
Exclaimed my friend. ‘How more than beautiful!
The city girt with rivers, the blue sky,
And that white building to the west away,
With gleaming columns, so like the Parthenon!
`T is almost like a morn in my far clime.
Ah! Greece, thou dear, delightful land!’ She ceased,
Looked dreamily toward the College,
And tears, large tears, suffused her soft, dark eyes.
Her gentle breast heaved with a sigh, and then
I left her side, for well I knew her thoughts
Were far away, and busy with the past.
O’er the vast, irregular mass of roofs,
Chimneys, and tops of trees just visible
Between glancing at spire and gilded dome
With crowning cross shining like a pale planet
In the sun-light, my eye roved on, and there
Far to the South, where sky and landscape meet,
Saw the blue, lordly Delaware move on,
Majestically slow, receive and bear
Rejoicing Schuylkill onward to sea.
Delightedly I gazed and long: enjoying
The pure breeze, gladdening sun-light, and low hum
That from the busy streets below ascended
Lullingly: like the far-off murmuring
Of water-fall; and thought anon of Hellas,
Unhappy, ruined Hellas: beautiful
But sad, mourning o’er her lost liberty,
Lost power, and perished glory: yet
To the fond wanderer’s heart lovelier
In all her woe, than our young rising land
Of giant promise.
Ere we descended
Once more to the vast, lighted scene below,
Turned then like the calm, o’er-arching sky,
And, like the Milesian, thanked my GOD
That I was born in such a land as this.
~ Way-Side Valley-Forge, May, 1856.
Through the shaded walk, into the State-House,
Walked Agatha and I, one clear, bright morn
Within the silent hall whence, years ago,
Issued the wisdom of those men whose
Float brightening down the tide of time
For ever. `T is a large, plain room, hung round.
With portraits, images of men whose names
Gleam brightly in the galaxy of fame.
Dependent from the ceiling, a chandelier
Pours intercepted light through countless prisms
In rain-bow radiance o’er the room. On high,
Mid-way of the far wall, over against
The entrance, perches the brazen eagle,
Our country’s emblem. Conspicuously
Beneath stands Washington in statue; here,
As in history, alone, unequalled.
Europe has had heroes, Albion
Her warrior-monarchs, and Corsica
Gave Gaul its red, far-flashing meteor:
But thou, America, young, favored land,
Hast fixed upon the firmament of fame
The cynosure of nations. ‘Come hither,’
Called my friend: ‘come! Sit here where I have sat:
I’ll tell my countrymen, when I return to Greece,
How I reclined me in the chair
Honored by Washington.’
I've never cringed
To mortal: no living wight bears spirit
Prouder than my own; but reverently
Before that chair I stood, nor dared to touch
Later, and up the winding stairs we took
Our toilsome way e’en to the interior
Of the clock; itself a room, its mechanism
In the centre; the four circular windows
Its four faces; to which the citizens
That throng the streets look up and see
On every side of the square tower, true
As truth itself their faithful monitor.
Down in the room below, the pendulum,
That great pulse-beat of time, swings to-and-fro.
Up, on we went, nor passed unnoticing
The bell whose iron mouth to all the land
Sang out the song of freedom! Pacific
Heard it borne along by echoing Andes;
And, kneeling on the shore, its mighty waves
Took up the tune; and ever on their march
From pole to pole, they chant it forth afar
To listening sands in solemn unison.
Higher and still more high, and then we stood
Within the open steeple. ‘How glorious!’
Exclaimed my friend. ‘How more than beautiful!
The city girt with rivers, the blue sky,
And that white building to the west away,
With gleaming columns, so like the Parthenon!
`T is almost like a morn in my far clime.
Ah! Greece, thou dear, delightful land!’ She ceased,
Looked dreamily toward the College,
And tears, large tears, suffused her soft, dark eyes.
Her gentle breast heaved with a sigh, and then
I left her side, for well I knew her thoughts
Were far away, and busy with the past.
O’er the vast, irregular mass of roofs,
Chimneys, and tops of trees just visible
Between glancing at spire and gilded dome
With crowning cross shining like a pale planet
In the sun-light, my eye roved on, and there
Far to the South, where sky and landscape meet,
Saw the blue, lordly Delaware move on,
Majestically slow, receive and bear
Rejoicing Schuylkill onward to sea.
Delightedly I gazed and long: enjoying
The pure breeze, gladdening sun-light, and low hum
That from the busy streets below ascended
Lullingly: like the far-off murmuring
Of water-fall; and thought anon of Hellas,
Unhappy, ruined Hellas: beautiful
But sad, mourning o’er her lost liberty,
Lost power, and perished glory: yet
To the fond wanderer’s heart lovelier
In all her woe, than our young rising land
Of giant promise.
Ere we descended
Once more to the vast, lighted scene below,
Turned then like the calm, o’er-arching sky,
And, like the Milesian, thanked my GOD
That I was born in such a land as this.
~ Way-Side Valley-Forge, May, 1856.