What though the tempest be over us lowering,
Where’s the New Englander shamefully cowering?
Graves green and holy around us are lying,—
Free were the sleepers all, living and dying!
If we whispered the truth, whisper no longer;
Speak as the tempest does, sterner and stronger;
Still be the tones of truth louder and firmer,
Startling the haughty South with the deep murmur;
God and our charter’s right, freedom forever!
Truce with oppression, never, O, never!”