Poems (Carmichael)/The Mines

by Sarah Elizabeth Carmichael

THE MINES.

Bring the Nation's wealth to the Nation's need!
Let the golden veins of the mountains bleed!
Bid the pallid pulses of silver start
From the sordid depths of the earth's black heart.
There are burning rubies that gem the sod;
There are trampled pearls where the battle trod;
There are brilliants throbbing with glorious life,
Scattered like chaff on the field of strife;
Yet the passive hand of the Nation sleeps
Cold on the key of the treasure heaps!
And Columbia's need is in whispers told
Where her rivers dash on a shore of gold;
Where her regal hills in their pride look down
On the golden fringe of their mantle brown;
Where the sunbeams glitter on sand as bright,
And the sod is spangled with silver light.
Is the warm, true life of the Nation's veins
Less than the dust of the yellow plains,
That we hear the cry of the Treasury's need
Where trampled bosoms exultant bleed?
Heart-eloquence, are thy bright lips dumb?
Soul-power, is thy arm of puissance numb?
Open the vaults where the gold dust shines!
Give us the key of the silver mines!

Was the treasure stored by the Nation's God,
In the mountain cave and the valley sod,
To purchase a circlet of diamonds rare
For the snowy brow of a millionaire?
Was it hidden away in the mountain ledge,
Lapped under the hem of the streamlet's edge,
To trail brocade through a festive place,
Or cover a shoddy breast with lace?
Was it sifted in ashes of golden light,
O'er blossoming valley and rocky height,
To wrap pollution in tissues fine,
Or sparkle and fade in the blush of wine?
Oh! is it not rightly the Nation's dower,
A treasure kept for the stormy hour,
To help our hope to its lofty aim—
To free our Land from the blush of shame—
To strengthen the power of the crimson wave
That cancels, forever, the name of slave—
To make the belt of the Union strong,
To uphold the right, to redress the wrong?
Speak, lips that boast of a patriot right!
Act, arms that thrill with a patriot might!
Open the vaults where the gold dust shines,
Give us the key of the silver mines!

Wealth, wealth, wherever a thought can go,
From Arizona to Idaho;
Where the silver feet of Nevada light
A pathway under the sod;
Where the finger white of the Wasatch height
Points to the throne of God;
Where the young Montana, lifting up
The wine of life in a golden cup,
Pledges the queen of the sunset sea
Who crushed the grapes for the revelry;
Where California, the Ocean bride,
Wears crimson roses with brilliants tied;
Where the wild sage stems of the desert die
In the cold, white marshes of alkali,
There are nerves and pulses that trembling start
To quicken the throb of the Nation's heart.
Oh! speak to them, Eloquence! softly speak
Of the faded lip and the withered cheek;
Of the patriot bosoms that bleed and die
For a cause so holy, an aim so high!
Do they share no part of the glorious claim?
Hath their life no thrill for Columbia's fame?
They answer, they answer, their true hands reach
A better language than empty speech!
They open the vaults where the gold dust shines,
They give us the key of the silver mines!