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Show 36 1 Genius of America! Spirit of our frea institutions-~vhere art thou1 How art thou fallcn,oh Lucifer! souof tl~e morning-how art thou fallen from Hca\·en! Hell from beneath 1s moved for thee, to meet thee at thy comiug! The kings of the earth 1~ry sot 1/:: thee, Aha! Aha !-A R'f THOU BECOi'IIE LIKE UNT• US •- peeC of Reo. S. J. May. Oun fellow·countrymen in chains ! Slaves-in a land of light and law 1 Slaves-crouching on the very plains 'Vhere rolled the storm of Freedom's war! A groan from Eutaw's haunted woodA wail where Camden's martyrs fellBy every shrine of patriot blood, From :Moultrie's wall and Jasper's well! By storied hill and hallowed grot, By mossy wood and marshy glen, Whence rang of old the rifle-shot, And hurrying shout of Marion's men! The groan of breaking hearts is thereThe falling lash-the fetter's clank! Slaves-sLAVES are breathing in that air, Which old De Kalb and Sumter drank ! 'Vhat, ho !-our countrymen in chains ! The whip on woMJ.N's shrinking flesh! Our soil yet reddening with the stains, Caught from her scourging, warm and fresh! 'Vhat! mothers from their children riven! What! God's own image bought and sold! AMERICAN:i to market driven, And bartered as the brute for gold I 37 Speak! shall their agony of prayer Come thrilling to our hearts in vain 1 To us, whose fathers scorned to eear The paltry menace of a chain . To us, w ho~e boast is loud and l~ng Of holy hberty and light- Say, shall these writhing slaves of Wrong, Plead vamly for their plundered Right 1 What! shall we send, with lavish breath, Our sympathies across the wave Where manhood , on the field of d:ath Strikes for his freedom , or a grave 1' Shall prayers go up-and hymns be oling For Greece, the Moslem fetter spurningAnd millions hail with pen and tongue Our light on all her altars burning 1 Shall Belgium feel, and gallant France, By Vendomc's pile and Schoenbrun's wall And Poland, grasping on her lance, ' The impulse of our cheering call? And sh all the SLAVE, beneath our eye, Clank o'er our fields his hateful chain 1 And toss his fettered arms on high, And groan for freedom's gift, in vain 1 Oh •ay, shall Prussia's banner be A refuge for the stricken slave; And shall the Russian serf go free By Baikal's lake and Neva's wave |
