Independence of Deseret.

By P.P. Pratt.

‘Tis said in the papers, and fear’d by the knowing,
That young Deseret quite ambitious is growing;
That her National Standard will soon be unfurled,
To reign o’er the nations and conquer the World.

That fell superstition from earth will be driven,
The thrones of all tyrants to atoms be riven;
That the light of her dawning will burst into day,
As the mists of long ages are rolling away.

Now, bold Deseretians! pray lend your attention,
The path to this glory the muse would fain mention;
And tell you the reasons why Conquerors great,
Have failed to establish a permanent State.

It is said Alexander subdued all the nations,
And fain would have traveled to other creations;
But ‘twas clear when his weapons were laid on the shelf,
He had never made war with, or conquered himself.

And modern reformers are often contending,
‘Gainst tobacco and spirits, their habits still mending,
Like the Puritan fathers who fain would be free,
But forgetting themselves made a war on the sea.

Now bold Deseretians if you are aspiring,
To greatness and glory and progress untiring;
War not against nations, for conquest like Rome,
But fight for your own Independence at home.

War not against merchants, tobacco, or spirits,
But against the bad tastes you in weakness inherit;
Let your beverage be ever the cold mountain stream,
And Home manufacture your practice and theme.

Dispense with the gewgaws, the silks and the satin,
The false splendor of parties, the Greek and the Latin;
Let home manufacture your persons array,
And the work of your hands all its beauties display.

You’re doubtless aware of the wonderful treasures,
The gambling and scrambling and murders and pleasures;
The finest of fortunes that are bought and are sold,
In our neighboring State e’en the land of the Gold.

But there’s many a snare in the process of mining,
By the influx of Gold are the nations declining;
Oft the Gold or the silver to vice is a tool,
But the rod of pure Iron the nations will rule.

Tis the Engine of Iron that conquers the Ocean,
That rolls on the track by its own Locomotion;
That levels the forest, turns over the sod,
And worketh more wonders than Moses’ rod.

Tis Iron that has rent all the nations asunder,
It has poured forth its lightning and vomited thunder;
But now on its sinews a message of Peace,
Borne along by the lightning is wonders increase.

Thou O, Deseretians subdue your own passions,
Create your own Heaven and make your own fashions;
Then make Iron as plenty as dust on your plains,
And over the nations Eternally reign.

G.S.L. City, Deseret, Nov. 30th, 1852.

[Deseret News, Dec. 11, 1852]

[transcribed and proofread by David Grow, Sept. 2006]

Return to Poetry and Songs by Parley P. Pratt