Charles Lewis Reason

Charles Lewis Reason Poems

Charles Lewis Reason Biography

Charles Lewis Reason (July 21, 1818 – 1893) was a mathematician, linguist, and educator. Born in New York City to immigrants from the West Indies, he became the first African-American university professor at a predominately white college in the US. A child prodigy in mathematics, Reason began teaching the subject at the age of fourteen at the African Free School in New York, which he and two of his brothers attended. He then attended McGrawville College, an integrated institution founded by members of the Baptist Church in McGraw, New York. In 1847, Reason, along with Charles Bennett Ray, founded the New York-based Society for the Promotion of Education among Colored Children. Twelve years later, he was appointed professor of belles lettres, Greek, Latin, and French at New York Central College in McGrawville, while also serving as an adjunct professor of mathematics. It was a majority white institution. In 1852 Reason left that post to become the principal of the Quaker Institute for Colored Youth in Philadelphia (later Cheyney University), a post he held until 1856. During his time there, Reason increased enrollment from six students to 118. Reason returned to New York, where he spent the rest of his career in public education as a teacher, administrator, and reformer. During this time, he was instrumental in his efforts to abolish slavery and segregation, successfully spearheading an 1873 statute to integrate New York's public schools. He was politically active in many community groups. Reason was also a writer. He contributed verse to the Colored American in the 1830s and was a leader of New York City's Phoenix Society in the 1840s. He wrote the poem "Freedom," which celebrated abolitionist Thomas Clarkson and was published in Alexander Crummell's 1849 biography of Clarkson. Reason's personal life is obscure. He was married and widowed three times; only the identity of his third wife, Clorice Esteve, is known. He died in New York City in 1893.)

The Best Poem Of Charles Lewis Reason

Freedom

O Freedom! Freedom! O! how oft
Thy loving children call on Thee!
In wailings loud, and breathings soft,
Beseeching God, Thy face to see.

With agonizing hearts we kneel,
While 'round us howls the oppressor's cry,—
And suppliant pray, that we may feel
The ennob'ling glances of Thine eye.

We think of Thee as once we saw
Thee, jewel'd by Thy Father's hand,
Afar beside dark Egypt's shore,
Exulting with Thy ransom'd band.

We hear, as then, the thrilling song,
That hail'd Thy passage through the sea,—
While distant echoes still prolong
The cymbal'd anthem, sung to Thee.

And wafted yet, upon the gales
Borne pure and fresh from sunny skies,
Come startling words! that 'long the vales
Where Pelion and Ossa rise,

Were shouted by Thine own clear voice!
And Grecian hearts leap'd at the call:
E'en as now Patriot souls rejoice,
To see invading tyrants fall.

We view Thy stately form, loom o'er
The topmost of the seven hills!
Around Thee glittering eagles soar—
The symbol'd rise of freeborn wills.

Down in the plains, we still behold
The circled forums built to Thee;—
Hear Tully's strains, and Brutus bold,
Call on his country to be free.

When from those groves of citron bloom,
And classic Helle's vine clad shore,—
Through countries hung in castled gloom,
Attending winds Thy chariot bore,—

We followed Thee o'er all the fields
Of Europe, crimson-dyed with blood;
Where broken spears, and buried shields,
Now mark the spots where Thou hast stood.

At Morgarten, through drifting snows,
That seem'd to guard the Switzer's home!—
And where the walls of Sempach rose,
We saw the mail-clad Austrians come.

Three times we saw Thee bear the shock
Of stalwart knight, and plunging steed;—
And crush their front, as does the rock
The waves, that 'gainst its bosom speed.

Yet, vainly striving, Thou, to part
That brist'ling sea of pikes had'st tried,
Till Underwalden's patriot heart
Bore down the foe, and glorious died.

Yes! Victory, as Arnold fell,
Her white plume waved from every peak,—
And ringing loud, the voice of Tell
Still greater triumphs bade Thee seek.

With trophies from Thy conflicts deck'd,
(Allied by God to injured men,)
We saw Thy struggle at Utrecht,
At Zealand, Brabant, and Lutzen.

Where e'er the sunbeams flash'd, Thy shield
Lit up oppression's funeral pile;
And though o'erwhelm'd on Calsgrave field,
And banished from Thy Shamrock isle;

Yet cheering on Thy gallant Poles,
From Slavon bondage to be free,
We see Thy hurried pace, as rolls
The alarm of danger o'er the sea.

Above the heaving mountain crest,
As to the isles of thought and song
Thou bad'st adieu,—from out the west,
Were heard, deep mutterings of wrong.

On many a frozen battle ground,
Opposing swords were gleaming bright;
While 'long the skies, the thundering sound
Of cannon, 'woke the silent night.

Exulting in their mission high,
Columbia's sons had pledged Thy cause—
Thy first endeavor,—“to untie
The cords of caste and slavish laws.”

Long years roll'd by, and still went on
The strife of man, 'gainst regal power:
Till, bravely, in Thy strength, was won,
Thy since, polluted, blood-stained dower.

We mourn for this! yet joyfully
O Freedom! we loud praises give,
That on Thine altar in the sea,
For us Thy hallowed fires live.

O! grant! unto our parent home,
Thy constant presence and Thy shield!
That when again rude hirelings come,
Though starr'd from every battle field,

The spirit of the patriot true,
Toussaint, the “man of men,” may ring
The shrill war cry the welkin through,
And mount to plain the echo sing.

But not 'mid trick'ling blood and smoke,
The wailings of the dying foe,
The bayonet thrust—the sabre stroke,—
Canst Thou alone great victories show.

Along Thy pathway, glory shines:
And grateful wreaths before Thee fall:—
More worth than all Golconda's mines,
Or power, that twines in Coronal.

Thine is the mission, to subdue
The soul, encased in triple steel;
And so the world with love imbue,
That tyrants shall before Thee kneel.

When from the slave's crush'd, aching heart,
The cry went up to Sabaoth's God,—
And man, with his immortal part,
Was pressed e'en down unto the sod,

We saw Thee wield convictions strength,
And heard Thy blows fall thick and fast;
While loud and clear through all the length
Of Britain, blew Thy trumpet blast.

Thou wast the answer! Clarkson! thou
The mighty soul that led the strife!
Taking a consecrated vow,
To conquer or to yield thy life.

Well hast thou fought, great pioneer!
The snows of age upon thy head,
Were Freedom's wreaths; by far, more dear,
Than finest sculpture o'er the dead.

We leave thee to thy long repose!
Offering the blessings of the slave:
Assured that at the world's dread close,
Thou'lt rise enfranchised from the grave.

What more can we O! Freedom! speak
In praise of Thee? our hearts grow faint!
Where else shall we Thy triumphs seek?
What fairer pictures can we paint?

We stand upon the shaking ground
Of tyranny! we call it home:
The earth is strewn with Christians bound,—
We've cried to Thee—Thou dost not come.

We know Thou hast Thy chosen few,—
The men of heart, who live by right,—
Who steadily their way pursue,
Though round them pall the shades of night.

We hold them dear: defamed, beset,
They fight the civil war of man:
The fiercest struggle, that has yet
Been waged against oppressions ban.

We give them thanks: the bondman's prayer
As holy incense soars on high,
That nought to Thee their love impair,
'Till shall be gained the victory.

But, O! Great Spirit! see'st Thou
Thy spotless ermine men defile?
God's civil rulers cringing bow
To hate, and fraud, and customs vile!

The CHURCH, to her great charge untrue,
Keeps pious guard, o'er slavery's den!
While guilty laymen, wrong pursue,
Her recreant priesthood, say—amen.

O! purify each holy court!
The ministry of law and light!
That man, no longer, may be bought
To trample down his brother's right.

We lift imploring hands to Thee!
We cry for those in prison bound!
O! in Thy strength, come! Liberty!
And 'stablish right the wide world round.

We pray to see Thee, face to face:
To feel our souls grow strong and wide:
So ever shall our injured race,
By Thy firm principles abide.

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