Independence Bell

Anonymous

This poem has long been a favorite for declamation, though it is sometimes ruined in delivery by too frequent and over-dramatic gestures. The selection is full of changes, and can hardly be spoken in a lifeless, monotonous way if you appreciate at all the scenes described. Think of the old Independence Bell at Philadelphia as you tell the story. The action described in stanzas I and 2 requires a rather rapid movement and ringing tones. Give the quotations in stanza 3 just as you imagine each of the different persons spoke. Stanza 5 marks a transition and should be preceded by a pause. At stanza 6 the rate is much faster, continuing until the boy's "joyous cry" is uttered. Then another transition, or change, occurs, the rate being rapid till the end of stanza 8. Stanza 9 should be given with slow rate, round, full tones, and strong force.

THERE was tumult in the city,

In the quaint old Quaker town,
And the streets were rife with people
Pacing restless up and down,-

People gathering at corners,

Where they whispered each to each,
And the sweat stood on their temples
With the earnestness of speech.

As the bleak Atlantic currents

Lash the wild Newfoundland shore,
So they beat against the State-House,
So they surged against the door;
And the mingling of their voices
Made a harmony profound,
Till the quiet street of Chestnut

Was all turbulent with sound.

"Will they do it?" "Dare they do it?"
"Who is speaking?" "What's the news?"
"What of Adams?" "What of Sherman?"
"Oh, God grant they won't refuse!"
"Make some way, there!" "Let me nearer!"
"I am stifling!" "Stifle, then!

When a nation's life's at hazard,
We've no time to think of men!"

So they beat against the portal,

Man and woman, maid and child;

And the July sun in heaven

On the scene looked down and smiled:

The same sun that saw the Spartan

Shed his patriot blood in vain, Now beheld the soul of freedom, All unconquered, rise again.

See! See! The dense crowd quivers
Through all its lengthy line,
As the boy beside the portal
Looks forth to give the sign!
With his little hands uplifted,
Breezes dallying with his hair,
Hark! with deep, clear intonation,
Breaks his young voice on the air.

Hushed the people's swelling murmur,
List the boy's exultant cry!
"Ring!" he shouts, "Ring! grandpa,
Ring, oh, ring for LIBERTY!"

Quickly at the given signal

The old bell-man lifts his hand, Forth he sends the good news, making Iron music through the land.

How they shouted! What rejoicing!
How the old bell shook the air,
Till the clang of freedom ruffled
The calmly gliding Delaware!
How the bonfires and the torches
Lighted up the night's repose,
And from the flames, like fabled Phoenix,
Our glorious Liberty arose!

That old State-House bell is silent,

Hushed is now its clamorous tongue;

But the spirit it awakened

Still is living,-ever young;

And when we greet the smiling sunlight
On the Fourth of each July,

We will ne'er forget the bell-man

Who, betwixt the earth and sky,

Rang out, loudly, "INDEPENDENCE," Which, please God, shall never die!

Sons of the Self-Same Race

Alfred Austin

Alfred Austin was born at Headingly, England, May 30, 1835. He published a number of novels, poems, dramas, and other writings, and was appointed poet laureate in 1896. He died June 2, 1913.

Ringing, explosive tones are required to voice effectively this strong appeal for Anglo-Saxon unity.

WHAT is the Voice I hear

On the wind of the Western Sea?

Sentinel! Listen from out Cape Clear,

And say what the voice may be.

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'Tis a proud free People calling loud to a People proud and free.

"And it says to them, 'Kinsmen, hail!

We severed have been too long;

Now let us have done with a worn-out tale,

The tale of an ancient wrong,

And our friendship last long as Love doth last, and

be stronger than Death is strong.'

Answer them, Sons of the self-same race,

And blood of the self-same clan,

Let us speak with each other, face to face,

And answer, as man to man,

And loyally love and trust each other, as none but

free men can.

Now, fling them out to the breeze,

Shamrock, Thistle, and Rose!

And the Star-Spangled Banner unfurl with these, A message to friends and foes,

Wherever the sails of Peace are seen, and wherever the War-wind blows.

A message to bond and thrall to wake,
For, whenever we come, we twain,

The throne of the Tyrant shall rock and quake,

And his menace be void and vain:

For you are lords of a strong young land, and we are lords of the main.

Yes, this is the Voice on the bluff March gale,

"We severed have been too long:

But now we have done with a worn-out tale,

The tale of an ancient wrong,

And the friendship shall last as Love doth last, and be stronger than Death is strong."

Land of the South

Alexander Beaufort Meek

Alexander Beaufort Meek was born in Columbia, S. C., in 1814. He was a lawyer and writer, and a member of the legislature of Alabama. His best-known work is "Songs and Poems of the South," published in 1857. He died in 1865.

The emotion of tender compassion which runs through this poem should be appreciated and expressed in musical tones charged with deep feeling. Note the slight change in emotion that appears in the last stanza, the climax at the close requiring strong, ringing tones.

LAND of the South!-imperial land!

How proud thy mountains rise!