Under continent to continent, the sense of coming ill,
And the slave, where’er he cowers, feels his sympathies with God
In hot tear-drops ebbing earthward, to be drunk up by the sod,
Till a corpse crawls round unburied, delving in the nobler clod.
For mankind are one in spirit, and an instinct bears along
Round the earth’s electric circle, the swift flash of right or wrong
Whether conscious or unconscious, yet Humanity’s vast frame
Through its ocean-sundered fibers feels the gush of joy or shame:—
In the gain or loss of one race all the rest have equal claim.
Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide,