Colonial
"The Wages of Sin" Consider spiritual change.
http://www.loc.gov/teachers/lyrical/poems/wages_sin.html
For people living in North America's British colonies, the news wasn't something you read about at home—it was something you picked up in the street. During most of the colonial period, there were no newspapers as we know them today and no other mass media to bring the larger world into people's homes. Instead, people learned about current events from broadsides—cheap, quickly printed single sheets of news, poetry, song, or commentary that were handed out in public squares or pasted onto coffeehouse walls.
Broadsides were a free-for-all of public opinion: they could be bawdy, gory, sensationalistic, serious, irreverent, insightful, or packed with outright lies. Since they could be published anonymously and posted in the dead of night, they were often the forum for venting unpopular—or illegal—political views, including early calls for independence from Great Britain.
When any major public event took place, it was usually followed by a flurry of broadsides, with each writer violently disagreeing with the others and promoting his or her own point of view. This poem provides commentary on the public execution of a burglar in Boston and draws some very pointed lessons on the consequences of crime. As you read it, you might imagine what some other broadside publishers might say in response.
The Library of Congress Lyrical Legacy The Wages of Sin;
OR,
Robbery justly Rewarded:
A
POEM,
Occasioned by the untimely Death of
Richard Wilson,
Who was Executed on Boston Neck, for Burglary,
On Thursday the 19th of October, 1732.
THis Day from Goal must Wilson be
conveyed in a Cart,
By Guards unto the Gallows-Tree,
to die as his Desert.
For being wicked overmuch,
there for a wicked Crime,
Must take his fatal Lot with such
as die before their Time.
No human Pardon he can get,
by Intercession made;
But flee he must unto the Pit,
and by no Man be stay’d.
The fatal sad and woful Case,
this awful Sight reveals,
Of one whom Vengeance in his Chase
hath taken by the Heels.
Here is a Caution in the Sight,
to wicked Thieves, and they
Who break and rob the House by Night,
which they have mark’d by Day.
We see the Fall of one that cast
his Lot in by Decree,
With those that wait the Twilight past,
that so no Eye may see.
That wicked Action which he thought
by Night would be conceal’d,
By Providence is strangely brought
thus far to be reveal’d.
By which we see apparantly,
there is no Places sure,
Where Workers of Iniquity
can hide themselves secure.
There is no Man by human Wit,
can keep his Sin conceal’d
When he that made him thinks it fit
the same should be reveal’d.
He that gets Wealth in wicked Ways,
and slights the Righteous Rule,
Doth leave them here amidst his Days,
and dies at last a Fool.
Here we may see what Men for Stealth
and Robbing must endure;
And what the Gain of ill got Wealth
will in the End procure.
Here is a Caution high and low,
for Warning here you have,
From one whose Feet are now brought to
the Borders of the Grave.
He does bewail his mis-spent Life,
and for his Sins doth grieve,
Which is an hopeful Sign that he
a Pardon will receive.
He says, since he forsook his God,
God has forsaken him,
And left him to this wicked Crime,
that has his Ruine been.
He calls his Drunkenness a Sin,
with his neglect of Prayer,
The leading Crimes have brought him in
to this untimely Snare.
All you that practice cursed Theft,
take Warning great and small,
Lest you go on, and so are left
to such untimely fall.
Repent of all your Errors past,
and eye the Stroke of Fate,
Lest you thus come to Shame at last,
and mourn when ’tis too late.
Remember what the Scripture saith,
a little honest Wealth,
Is better far than mighty Store
of Riches got by Stealth.
This Warning foundeth in our Ear,
this Sentence loud and Shrill,
O Congregation, hear and fear,
and do no more so ill.
FINIS.
there is no Places sure,
x now brought to
the Borders of the Grave.
He does bewail his mis-spent Life,
and for his Sins doth grieve,
Which is an hopeful Sign that he
a Pardon will receive.
He says, since he forsook his God,
God has forsaken him,
And left him to this wicked Crime,
that has his Ruine been.
He calls his Drunkenness a Sin,
with his neglect of Prayer,
The leading Crimes have brought him in
to this untimely Snare.
All you that practice cursed Theft,
take Warning great and small,
Lest you go on, and so are left
to such untimely fall.
Repent of all your Errors past,
and eye the Stroke of Fate,
Lest you thus come to Shame at last,
and mourn when ’tis too late.
Remember what the Scripture saith,
a little honest Wealth,
Is better far than mighty Store
Revolutionary
Phyllis Wheatley on being brought from Africa (though it's fiercely accomodationist, it's definitely about change...)
http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/ampage?collId=ody_rbcmisc&fileName=ody/ody0215/ody0215page.db&recNum=19
Whitman poem (http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/treasures/trm013.html).
Post-Rev through Civil War
Abolition poems:
http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/ampage?collId=ody_musmisc&fileName=ody/ody0316/ody0316page.db&recNum=7
http://memory.loc.gov/cgi-bin/ampage?collId=ody_musmisc&fileName=ody/ody0316/ody0316page.db&recNum=9
Post WWII
Robert Frost, the Gift Outright:
http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/treasures/tri050.html
Robert Frost wrote a new poem entitled "Dedication" for delivery at the inauguration of John F. Kennedy in 1961, but never read it, because the sun's glare upon the snow blinded Frost from seeing the text. Instead, he recited "The Gift Outright" from memory.
The Library holds Frost's original, working draft of "Dedication" as well as this fair copy of the more familiar poem. Robert Frost served as the Library's consultant in poetry (1958-1959) and honorary consultant in the humanities (1958-1963). In addition, Frost recorded readings of his poetry at the Library in 1948, 1953, and 1959 for the Archive of Recorded Poetry and Literature.
From the Poetry of Robert Frost, © 1970 by Lesley Frost Ballantine, © 1969 by Henry Holt and Company, Inc. Reprinted by permission of Henry Holt and Company, Inc.
http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/treasures/images/uc005075.jpg
Words Like Freedom
There are words like Freedom
Sweet and wonderful to say.
On my heartstrings freedom sings
All day everyday.
There are words like Liberty
That almost make me cry.
If you had known what I know
You would know why.
-Langston Hughes