Unseen, unheard, his gray compeers The shades of Lee and Jefferson, Wise Franklin reverend with his years And Carroll, lord of Carrollton! Be thine henceforth a pride of place Beyond thy namesake's over-sea, Where scarce a stone is left to trace The Holy House of Amesbury. A prouder memory lingers round The birthplace of thy true man here Than that which haunts the refuge found By Arthur's mythic Guinevere. The plain deal table where he sat And signed a nation's title-deed Is dearer now to fame than that Which bore the scroll of Runnymede. Long as, on Freedom's natal morn, Shall ring the Independence bells, Give to thy dwellers yet unborn The lesson which his image tells. For in that hour of Destiny, Which tried the men of bravest stock, He knew the end alone must be A free land or a traitor's block. Among those picked and chosen men Than his, who here first drew his breath, No firmer fingers held the pen Which wrote for liberty or death. Not for their hearths and homes alone, But for the world their work was done; On all the winds their thought has flown Through all the circuit of the sun. We trace its flight by broken chains, By songs of grateful Labor still; To-day, in all her holy fanes, It rings the bells of freed Brazil. O hills that watched his boyhood's home, O earth and air that nursed him, give, In this memorial semblance, room To him who shall its bronze outlive! And thou, O Land he loved, rejoice That in the countless years to come, Whenever Freedom needs a voice, These sculptured lips shall not be dumb!