Ye spirits of the free, <br />Can ye forever see <br />Your brother man <br />A yoked and scourged slave <br />Chains dragging to his grave, <br />And raise no hand to save? <br />Say if you can. <br />In pride and pomp to roll, <br />Shall tyrants from the soul <br />God’s image tear, <br />And call the wreck their own,— <br />While, from the eternal throne, <br />They shut the stifled groan <br />And bitter prayer? <br />Shall he a slave be bound, <br />Whom God hath doubly crowned <br />Creation’s lord ? <br />Shall men of Christian name, <br />Without a blush of shame <br />Profess their tyrant claim <br />From God’s own word ? <br />No! at the battle cry, <br />A host prepared to die, <br />Shall arm for fight— <br />But not with martial steel, <br />Grasped with a murderous zeal ; <br />No arms their foes shall fell, <br />But love and light. <br />Firm on Jehovah’s laws, <br />Strong in their righteous cause, <br />They march to save. <br />And vain the tyrant’s mail, <br />Against their battle—hail, <br />Till cease the woe and wail <br />Of tortured slave !<br /><br />Anonymous Americas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ye-spirits-of-the-free/
