 | FOR A JUVENILE TEMPERANCE SOCIETY. Water-drops |  |
36. FOR A JUVENILE TEMPERANCE SOCIETY.
Old History tells of many a land
That bent beneath Oppression's yoke,
Till, with firm heart and fearless hand,
The fetter and the sway were broke.
But we a sterner toil essay,—
We struggle with a tyrant foe,
Whose poisoned arrows pierce the soul,
And lay uncounted thousands low.
The warrior's bleeding breast may close,
Though wounded by the keenest steel,
But he, who feels that direr fang,
What art can soothe? what balsam heal?
Yet courage! onward! He whose grace
Hath been the endanger'd hero's shield,
Can bless the stripling's sling and stone,
And make the mail-clad giant yield.
So, when by this dread yoke enslaved
No more our native realm shall be,
How high will swell the tuneful strain
Of Freedom's noblest jubilee.
That bent beneath Oppression's yoke,
Till, with firm heart and fearless hand,
The fetter and the sway were broke.
But we a sterner toil essay,—
We struggle with a tyrant foe,
Whose poisoned arrows pierce the soul,
And lay uncounted thousands low.
The warrior's bleeding breast may close,
Though wounded by the keenest steel,
But he, who feels that direr fang,
What art can soothe? what balsam heal?
Yet courage! onward! He whose grace
Hath been the endanger'd hero's shield,
Can bless the stripling's sling and stone,
And make the mail-clad giant yield.
So, when by this dread yoke enslaved
No more our native realm shall be,
How high will swell the tuneful strain
Of Freedom's noblest jubilee.
| FOR A JUVENILE TEMPERANCE SOCIETY. Water-drops | |