 | Voices of freedom |  |
119
TO JAMES G. BIRNEY,
ON HIS VISIT TO NEW ENGLAND IN 1845.
Friend of the Slave, whose trust in thee
Is told in many a midnight prayer—
To whom with tears of joy the free
The blessing of the ransomed bear!
Our free winds blow, our free waves foam
On Plymouth rock, round Faneuil Hall;
Thy welcome to our hearts and home,
Oh! Freedom's friend, is heard from all.
Is told in many a midnight prayer—
To whom with tears of joy the free
The blessing of the ransomed bear!
Our free winds blow, our free waves foam
On Plymouth rock, round Faneuil Hall;
Thy welcome to our hearts and home,
Oh! Freedom's friend, is heard from all.
For well should honest Nature own,
With all her tongues, the worshipper,
Who bends at Freedom's shrine, alone
With poverty and truth and her—
Reviving in a venal time
Once more the old heroic thought,
And startling faithless Cant and Crime
With miracles of goodness wrought.
With all her tongues, the worshipper,
Who bends at Freedom's shrine, alone
With poverty and truth and her—
Reviving in a venal time
Once more the old heroic thought,
And startling faithless Cant and Crime
With miracles of goodness wrought.
We hail thee on our Eastern strand,
Brave tiller of the Western soil!
And clasp with pride the generous hand
Grown hard and brown with honest toil.
'Tis something in our selfish day,
To feel that man once more can break
From Mammon's lure and Party's sway,
And dare be poor for conscience sake!
Brave tiller of the Western soil!
And clasp with pride the generous hand
Grown hard and brown with honest toil.
120
To feel that man once more can break
From Mammon's lure and Party's sway,
And dare be poor for conscience sake!
Then, in thy stainless honor, come,
Mild pleader for the trampled slave!
We call thee from thy woodland home,
By Huron's dim and distant wave,
In Freedom's holy strife to share—
For, never yet since Time began,
Could coward Wrong and Falsehood bear
The presence of an upright man!
Mild pleader for the trampled slave!
We call thee from thy woodland home,
By Huron's dim and distant wave,
In Freedom's holy strife to share—
For, never yet since Time began,
Could coward Wrong and Falsehood bear
The presence of an upright man!
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