VII
We seek no annexation, but of Mind,
Heart, Spirit. True, thy clear, sonorous voice
At Freedom's class-call, would make us rejoice,
For, then, close-coasting thrall would fail to find
In the new world, one truant to mankind,
Swimming out to the foreigners' decoys,
Or fast asleep amid his infant toys,
Instead of at the task, which God assigned.
Oh, let thy spirit come, but it must be
Along the star-way to the rising sun—
The way of love; not down creed hates that run,
Like broken stone-steps, to a roaring sea—
The way thou oft, hast come. Rise, and be one
On the new world's Star-top of Liberty.