Yet, Esau like, a better birthright sold,

And for base counterfeit exchanged the gold!

Ere man presumptuously his genius boasts,

Let him reflect upon the countless hosts,

[Pg 30]

The untold myriads, of each age and clime,

That sleep forgotten in the grave of time.

What were their names! Go ask the silent sod

Their deeds—their record lives but with their God!

At every step we tread on kindred earth,

Nor know the spot that gave our fathers birth.

Oh! could we call before our wondering eyes

All that have lived—and bid the dead arise,

From the first moment the Creator spoke

The word of power, and light through darkness broke,

And see earth covered with the mighty tide

Of all who on her bosom lived and died,

What a stupendous thought would fill the soul

Could we behold life's breathing ocean roll

Its human billows onward—and the mass

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