At length a fierce autocracy is seen
Install'd aloft in Freedom's very seat;
A throne built on the anger of defeat—
A virtual crown accorded in a spleen;
The North, which brawl'd for Freedom and her rights:
The North, which talk'd so big of brotherhood,
Hath dared for very rage a hundred fights,
When once her will was traversed! Once withstood,
She open'd condor's wings, and cried for blood:
And soar'd at once to sheer despotic heights—
And so we see, O saddest of all sights!
A ravening temper, deaf to all things good,
While the poor slaves, cajoled by warring whites,
Drift between North and South like floating wood.