To The Thirty-Ninth Congress

O people-chosen! are ye not     Likewise the chosen of the Lord,     To do His will and speak His word?     From the loud thunder-storm of war     Not man alone hath called ye forth,     But He, the God of all the earth!     The torch of vengeance in your hands     He quenches; unto Him belongs     The solemn recompense of wrongs.     Enough of blood the land has seen,     And not by cell or gallows-stair     Shall ye the way of God prepare.     Say to the pardon-seekers: Keep     Your manhood, bend no suppliant knees,     Nor palter with unworthy pleas.     Above your voices sounds the wail     Of starving men; we shut in vain     Our eyes to Pillow's ghastly stain.     What words can drown that bitter cry?     What tears wash out the stain of death?     What oaths confirm your broken faith?     From you alone the guaranty     Of union, freedom, peace, we claim;     We urge no conqueror's terms of shame.     Alas! no victor's pride is ours;     We bend above our triumphs won     Like David o'er his rebel son.     Be men, not beggars. Cancel all     By one brave, generous action; trust     Your better instincts, and be just!     Make all men peers before the law,     Take hands from off the negro's throat,     Give black and white an equal vote.     Keep all your forfeit lives and lands,     But give the common law's redress     To labor's utter nakedness.     Revive the old heroic will;     Be in the right as brave and strong     As ye have proved yourselves in wrong.     Defeat shall then be victory,     Your loss the wealth of full amends,     And hate be love, and foes be friends.     Then buried be the dreadful past,     Its common slain be mourned, and let     All memories soften to regret.     Then shall the Union's mother-heart     Her lost and wandering ones recall,     Forgiving and restoring all,     And Freedom break her marble trance     Above the Capitolian dome,     Stretch hands, and bid ye welcome home!