The weak who scale your sides learn winds are wild,
That beasts break loose, and birds awaken’d flee,
As if in deepest sleep they dream’d of being free.
High homes of manhood, human lips can phrase
No tribute fit to echo half your praise.
By Piedmont’s church and Ziska’s rock-wall’d see,
By Swiss and Scot who left their children free,
By our New England, when she named him knave
Who, flank’d by bloodhounds, chased his fleeing slave,
Stand ye like them, whose memories, ever grand,