THE WORD of the Lord by night | |
| To the watching Pilgrims came, | |
| As they sat by the seaside, | |
| And filled their hearts with flame. | |
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| God said, I am tired of kings, | 5 |
| I suffer them no more; | |
| Up to my ear the morning brings | |
| The outrage of the poor. | |
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| Think ye I made this ball | |
| A field of havoc and war, | 10 |
| Where tyrants great and tyrants small | |
| Might harry the weak and poor? | |
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| My angel—his name is Freedom— | |
| Choose him to be your king; | |
| He shall cut pathways east and west, | 15 |
| And fend you with his wing. | |
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| Lo! I uncover the land, | |
| Which I hid of old time in the West, | |
| As the sculptor uncovers the statue | |
| When he has wrought his best; | 20 |
| |
| I show Columbia, of the rocks | |
| Which dip their foot in the seas, | |
| And soar to the air-borne flocks | |
| Of clouds, and the boreal fleece. | |
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| I will divide my goods; | 25 |
| Call in the wretch and the slave; | |
| None shall rule but the humble, | |
| And none but Toil shall have. | |
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| I will have never a noble, | |
| No lineage counted great; | 30 |
| Fishers and choppers and ploughmen | |
| Shall constitute a state. | |
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| Go, cut down trees in the forest, | |
| And trim the straightest boughs; | |
| Cut down trees in the forest, | 35 |
| And build me a wooden house. | |
| |
| Call the people together, | |
| The young men and the sires, | |
| The digger in the harvest-field, | |
| Hireling, and him that hires; | 40 |
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| And here in a pine state-house | |
| They shall choose men to rule | |
| In every needful faculty, | |
| In church and state and school. | |
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| Lo, now! if these poor men | 45 |
| Can govern the land and sea, | |
| And make just laws below the sun, | |
| As planets faithful be. | |
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| And ye shall succor men; | |
| ’Tis nobleness to serve; | 50 |
| Help them who cannot help again; | |
| Beware from right to swerve. | |
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| I break your bonds and masterships, | |
| And I unchain the slave; | |
| Free be his heart and hand henceforth | 55 |
| As wind and wandering wave. | |
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| I cause from every creature | |
| His proper good to flow; | |
| As much as he is and doeth, | |
| So much he shall bestow. | 60 |
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| But, laying hands on another, | |
| To coin his labor and sweat, | |
| He goes in pawn to his victim | |
| For eternal years in debt. | |
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| To-day unbind the captive, | 65 |
| So only are ye unbound; | |
| Lift up a people from the dust, | |
| Trump of their rescue, sound! | |
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| Pay ransom to the owner, | |
| And fill the bag to the brim. | 70 |
| Who is the owner? The slave is owner, | |
| And ever was. Pay him. | |
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| O North! give him beauty for rags, | |
| And honor, O South! for his shame; | |
| Nevada! coin thy golden crags | 75 |
| With Freedom’s image and name. | |
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| Up! and the dusky race | |
| That sat in darkness long,— | |
| Be swift their feet as antelopes, | |
| And as behemoth strong. | 80 |
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| Come, East and West and North, | |
| By races, as snowflakes, | |
| And carry my purpose forth, | |
| Which neither halts nor shakes. | |
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| My will fulfilled shall be, | 85 |
| For in daylight or in dark, | |
| My thunderbolt has eyes to see | |
| His way home to the mark. | |
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