 | Freedom's Offering, |  |
This is A Fatherland to Me.
Oh! tell me not of fatherlandFar, far beyond the deep blue sea;
Of fruitful soil—of golden sand;
Of orange groves, and cocoa tree—
My mother breathed the inspiring air,
That sweeps along our craft-filled sea;
And here my father lisped his prayer;
This is a fatherland to me.
Oh! tell me not that God appoints,
The sable man Afric too free;
Whom he selects—whom he annoints
He'll make the path of duty see:
Oh! tell me not of power, and place,
Of wealth, of pomp, and luxury—
Of the improvement of my race,
When transplanted beyond the sea.
God ne'er but one race made to dwell,
Beneath the broad o'erarching sky;
There's but one heaven—but one hell,
And but one vast eternity;
And whereso'er he warms the soul
Into our mortal bodies,—there
Without intrusion or control,
We may abide if anywhere.
| Freedom's Offering, | |