A word, At whose sound The pages of history open, And the stirring deeds of our forefathers Are marshaled forth to meet us! Thousands of trusty swords leap from their scabbards, And the hillsides Are populous with rising life; Long lines of shadowy soldier-forms Start up, Forming in dense array along the valleys, Bearing evidence Of the word, Whose meaning Has never been changed since The Almighty traced the boundaries of the sea. And bid the earth come forth From the womb of waters! THAT WORD IS FREEDOM! A word Fraught with deepest meaning To ye, O ye down-trodden nation! Who stood alone Under the sombre shadow of the past, waiting For the angel of the future, the sound Of whose foot-falls made the present tremulous With coming tidings! A word, Pregnant with joys to the poor fettered slave, Toiling in the heat and burthen of the day In southern fields, Where the snowy cotton Unfurls its fleecy banner to the breeze! Or in the luxuriant tropics, Where forests Are all ablaze with gorgeous flowers, and birds, And the odorous air Is laden with orange and spice! Or toiling In northern latitudes, Where his best efforts And upward tendencies are clogged! His life burdened with sorrow, And ill-requited toil! O ye men! Over whose helpless nakedness He cast the mantle of liberty, woven out! Woof and weft! Of the threads of his very life! Ye men! Whose faces were never so black as not to show Behind their dark surface The features of a brother! Whose hands, unstained by crime, were never so black As to be unfit for his grasp! In loving token of a long lost Brotherhood!