Mary E. Thropp — A Visit to Independence Hall Philadelphia

Up Through the shaded walk, into the State-House, Walked Agatha and I, one clear, bright morn Within the silent hall whence, years ago, Issued the wisdom of those men whose Float brightening down the tide of time For ever. `T is a large, plain room, hung round. With portraits, images of men whose names Gleam brightly in the galaxy of fame. Dependent from the ceiling, a chandelier Pours intercepted light through countless prisms In rain-bow radiance o’er the room. On high, Mid-way of the far wall, over against The entrance, perches the brazen eagle, Our country’s emblem. Conspicuously Beneath stands Washington in statue; here, As in history, alone, unequalled. Europe has had heroes, Albion Her warrior-monarchs, and Corsica Gave Gaul its red, far-flashing meteor: But thou, America, young, favored land, Hast fixed upon the firmament of fame The cynosure of nations. ‘Come hither,’ Called my friend: ‘come! Sit here where I have sat: I’ll tell my countrymen, when I return to Greece, How I reclined me in the chair Honored by Washington.’ I've never cringed To mortal: no living wight bears spirit Prouder than my own; but reverently Before that chair I stood, nor dared to touch Later, and up the winding stairs we took Our toilsome way e’en to the interior Of the clock; itself a room, its mechanism In the centre; the four circular windows Its four faces; to which the citizens That throng the streets look up and see On every side of the square tower, true As truth itself their faithful monitor. Down in the room below, the pendulum, That great pulse-beat of time, swings to-and-fro. Up, on we went, nor passed unnoticing The bell whose iron mouth to all the land Sang out the song of freedom! Pacific Heard it borne along by echoing Andes; And, kneeling on the shore, its mighty waves Took up the tune; and ever on their march From pole to pole, they chant it forth afar To listening sands in solemn unison. Higher and still more high, and then we stood Within the open steeple. ‘How glorious!’ Exclaimed my friend. ‘How more than beautiful! The city girt with rivers, the blue sky, And that white building to the west away, With gleaming columns, so like the Parthenon! `T is almost like a morn in my far clime. Ah! Greece, thou dear, delightful land!’ She ceased, Looked dreamily toward the College, And tears, large tears, suffused her soft, dark eyes. Her gentle breast heaved with a sigh, and then I left her side, for well I knew her thoughts Were far away, and busy with the past. O’er the vast, irregular mass of roofs, Chimneys, and tops of trees just visible Between glancing at spire and gilded dome With crowning cross shining like a pale planet In the sun-light, my eye roved on, and there Far to the South, where sky and landscape meet, Saw the blue, lordly Delaware move on, Majestically slow, receive and bear Rejoicing Schuylkill onward to sea. Delightedly I gazed and long: enjoying The pure breeze, gladdening sun-light, and low hum That from the busy streets below ascended Lullingly: like the far-off murmuring Of water-fall; and thought anon of Hellas, Unhappy, ruined Hellas: beautiful But sad, mourning o’er her lost liberty, Lost power, and perished glory: yet To the fond wanderer’s heart lovelier In all her woe, than our young rising land Of giant promise. Ere we descended Once more to the vast, lighted scene below, Turned then like the calm, o’er-arching sky, And, like the Milesian, thanked my GOD That I was born in such a land as this. ~ Way-Side Valley-Forge, May, 1856.