Eventide A Series of Tales and Poems
EVENTIDE A SERIES OF TALES AND POEMS. BY EFFIE AFTON. "I never gaze Upon the evening, but a tide of awe, And love, and wonder, from the Infinite, Swells up within me, as the running brine From the smooth-glistening, wide-heaving sea, Grows in the creeks and channels of a stream, Until it threats its, banks. It is not joy,-- 'Tis sadness more divine."
age when liberty had its first grand revival, and was guarded by soberness
of thought, and tried by every variety and extent of sacrifice--by men who
had no professional, exclusive interest to provide for, but who expected
to fight and die for their convictions, who sought only to lay the
foundation of a nationality for future generations, and for the world; who
aimed at a healthful union of all popular interests, both among poor and
rich, among masters and dependents; who provided for freedom of action
under law; of worship and education, of commerce, agriculture, and the
arts; for the easy and equitable support of government,--for its
perpetuity indeed, infusing into it elements that appeal powerfully, both
to the self-interest and the patriotism of the citizens,--I say, were such
men, with such ends in view, by such sacrifice, to frame such a
government, containing the most delicate balance of interests, with strong
checks against the encroachment of any branch, either the legislative,
executive or judicial, giving all trades and professions, and all men, an
equal chance for excellence, influence, and honor; you would not hesitate
to pronounce that a good government, even though you might find slight
exception to some of its terms, though you might not interpret as others
do, all its constitutional phrases.
In view of the protection which such a constitution affords, especially if
it had been tested, for a period of eighty years, by all the inward strain
of domestic evils, and all the outward pressure of invasion; by the
influence of foreign envy, of intrigue, of hostility; by the debasing
power of disloyalty, the incompetency of rulers, and the general
degeneracy of human nature; I say, in view of all these untoward
EVENTIDE A SERIES OF TALES AND POEMS. BY EFFIE AFTON. "I never gaze Upon the evening, but a tide of awe, And love, and wonder, from the Infinite, Swells up within me, as the running brine From the smooth-glistening, wide-heaving sea, Grows in the creeks and channels of a stream, Until it threats its, banks. It is not joy,-- 'Tis sadness more divine."