Oh! Illinois! thy soil has drunk the blood Of Prophets, martyred for the truth of God. Once loved America! What can atone For the pure blood of innocence thou'st sown? Were all thy streams in teary torrents shed To mourn the fate of those illustrious dead, How vain the tribute, for the noblest worth That graced thy surface, degraded earth! Oh! wretched murd'rers! fierce for human blood! You've slain the Prophets of the living God, Who've borne oppression from their early youth, To plant on earth the principles of truth. Shades of our patriotic fathers! Can it be? Beneath your blood-stained flag of liberty! The firm supporters of our country's cause Are butchered, while submissive to her laws! Yes, blameless men, defamed by hellish lies, Have thus been offer'd as a sacrifice T' appease the ragings of a brutish clan, That has defied the laws of God and man! 'Twas not for crime or guilt of theirs they fell; Against the laws they never did rebel. True to their country, yet her plighted fate Has proved an instrument of cruel death! Where are thy far-famed laws, Columbia, where Thy boasted freedom--thy protecting care? Is this a land of rights? Stern FACTS shall say, If legal justice here maintains its sway, The official powers of state are sheer pretense, When they're exerted in the Saints' defense. Great men have fallen, and mighty men have died; Nations have mourned their fav'rites and their pride; But two, so wise, so virtuous, great, and good, Before on earth, at once, have never stood Since the creation. Men whom God ordained To publish truth where error long had reigned, Of whom the world itself unworthy proved. It knew them not, but men with hatred moved, And with infernal spirits have combined Against the best, the noblest, of mankind. Oh! persecution! shall thy purple hand Spread utter destruction through the land? Shall freedom's banner be no more unfurled? Has peace, indeed, been taken from the world? Thou God of Jacob, in this trying hour, Help us to trust in thy Almighty power; Support thy Saints beneath this awful stroke, Make bare thine arm to break oppression's yoke. We mourn thy Prophet, from whose lips have flowed The words of life thy Spirit has bestowed; A depth of thought no human art could reach, From time to time rolled in sublimest speech, From the celestial fountain, through his mind, To purify and elevate mankind. The rich intelligence by him brought forth, Is like the sunbeam spreading o'er the earth.