On The Anticipated Return Of J. B. Gough To Britain Poem by Janet Hamilton

Ere ancient Thebes began on high to raise
Her crest of towers; ere rose the wondrous maze
Of column'd temples, palaces, and halls,
Of pillar'd porticoes, and pondrous walls,
Far o'er the waste old Amphion's magic lyre
Rung forth wild music to his touch of fire-
Then heaved the rocks, and danced the stones along,
Moved by the mighty spell of glorious song.
High swelled the strain, swift rolled the stony flood,
Till Thebes, upreared, in gorgeous beauty stood.


No fabled lyrist-Gough, in thee we find
Thy tuneful eloquence, thy wealth of mind,
Thy words of power, and melody of tone,
Can move the will and draw the heart of stone,
Can startle, thrill, inspire, and arm the soul
With power to abjure for aye the madd'ning bowl.
So, from the fearful pit and miry clay,
Where cold, insensate inebriates lay,
They shake, they move, they come, and tower and wall,
Palace and temple, dome and pillared hall,
In order rise beneath thy skilful hand,
Wise master-builder, moral structures grand,
On temperance based, amidst the desert smile,
The beauty, strength, and safety of our isle.
Again return. Ah! many a change has passed
Since from our island shores thou parted last-
Ten thousand welcomes wait on thy return.
Then come 'with thoughts that breathe and words that burn'-
Entreat, appeal, and warn-thrill brain and heart;
While bosoms heave and tears spontaneous start.
The sense, the feeling, and the ear enchain,
And earth, yea heaven, shall prove thy words not vain.