“The hills were made for freedom”

William Goldsmith Brown (1812–1905)

WHEN freedom from her home was driven,

’Mid vine-clad vales of Switzerland,

She sought the glorious Alps of heaven,

And there, ’mid cliffs by lightnings riven,

Gathered her hero-band.

And still outrings her freedom-song,

Amid the glaciers sparkling there,

At Sabbath bell, as peasants throng

Their mountain fastnesses along,

Happy, and free as air.

The hills were made for freedom; they

Break at a breath the tyrant’s rod;

Chains clank in valleys; there the prey

Writhes ’neath Oppression’s heel alway:

Hills bow to none but God!