Here Freedom looks o'er all those broad domains,
And hears no heavy clank of servile chains,
Here man, no matter what his skin may be,
May stand erect and proudly say "I'M FREE!"
No crouching slaves cower in our busy marts,
With straining eyes and anguish riven hearts!
The beam that gilds alike the palace walls
And lowly hut, with genial radiance falls
On peer and peasant,—but the lowliest here
Walks in the sunshine, free as is a peer.
Proudly he stands with muscles strong and free,
The serf—the slave of no man, doomed to be.
His own, the arm the heavy axe that wields,—
His own, the hands that till the summer fields,—
His own, the babes that prattle in the door,—
His own, the wife that treads the cottage floor,
All the sweet ties of life to him are sure,
All the proud rights of MANHOOD are secure!
Fair land of peace' Oh mayest thou ever be,
Even as now, the land of LIBERTY!—
Treading serenely the bright upward road,
Honored of nations and approved of God,—
On thy fair brow emblazoned clear and bright,
FREEDOM, FRATERNITY, AND EQUAL RIGHT!
"I LAID ME DOWN AND SLEPT"
(Ps. 3 5.)
Dark was the midnight hour,
And wild with storm. Nor moon nor pitying star
Gleamed through the inky darkness from afar;
And Earth seemed reeling blindly to her doom,
As reels some stout ship thro' the midnight gloom,
What time the tempest and the waves have power.
I stood alone that night,
And stretched my chill hands tow'rd the rayless sky,
And heard the wrathful winds go shrieking by,
And thought of one, whose weary feet from far
Were journeying homeward thro' that night's wild war,
Stricken with dire Consumption's deadly blight
"Oh! feeble, woman's hands
Outstretched in anguish thro' the enshrouding dark,
Ye cannot reach that far-off, struggling bark
That seems so lashed and beaten by the storm;
Ye cannot clasp that fever-stricken form,
And lead him home across the cold, wet sands!
"But thou canst kneel and pray,
Oh, burdened one!—Thy Father, through the night
Can hear thy prayer!—Thy tears fall in His sight!
Call e'er so faintly, He thy voice can hear!
Then close the door, and pray;—thy Lord is near—
Is near to thee, and near to him alway!"
Thus spake the voice of Love;—
And, kneeling there, in God's own gracious ear
I whispered all my anguish and my fear,
Then laid me down, and slept, and saw no more
The night's black pall, or heard the sullen roar
Of battling storms that 'mid the darkness strove.