“I hear thee speak of a ‘Plot of Land,’
For each and all of the Peasant band;
Where! Oh Where! is this garden store?
Shall we not till it and starve no more?
Is it where the lordling sits in his pride,
’Mid wealth that to me has been denied?
Is it where the flocks on the hill-side graze,
Or the stag in the forest leaps and plays;
Or the hare runs wild on every hand
Is it there? Is it there? That Promised Land!”