XVIII
Our master too designed for us our god,
And even bids us to believe
That god had placed within his hands the rod,
Our arms within their bonds did leave.
Abase yourselves, O bow yourselves,
Before the Lord of starry dome!
Abase yourselves, O bow yourselves,
Before the lord of earthly home!
Humility, obedience,
Alone heaven’s gates will open;
And for the master reverence,
Is the soul’s most precious token.
Humanity’s noblest feeling, perchance,
Is thus within the slaver’s grace;
Within his God’s eternal countenance
Is carved his domineering face.
His priests too in adulation
With stooping backs his praises say
In song and in emulation.
They are the pillar of his sway:
Upon each head destruction send
That will but raise itself more free,
And his success with prayers attend,
And bless his rod in piety.
The lips of a pious prophet once taught
Equality of all men,
And shattering the chains of a slave sought
To bind all with love’s bonds then.
But his disciple’s cunning clan
Upset his laws and his command,
Extols to us the sacred plan,
Although coerced its legal stand,
Rejoices with its filthy gain
Along with friendly lord’s acclaim,
And so it consecrates the chain,
Mockingly, in the Master’s name.
O God of ours, Thou our true God, give heed!
Thou God of slaves that are poor,
Who decks His altars not with gold indeed,
Nor priests in silken vesture;
Who reigns in nature’s own beauty
And in the heart-throbs of the simple,
Thou, O great God of Liberty,
Lift up Thy hand so powerful,
Release us from our ancient shackles,
Raise high our heads up from the dust,
And to the world in Freedom’s temples,
Proclaim Thy laws so true and just!