Thank God for a land where pride is clipped, where arrogance stalks apart; Where law and song and loathing of wrong are words of the common heart; Where the masses honor straightforward strength, and know, when veins are bled, That the bluest blood is putrid blood--that the people's blood is red! And honor to Crispus Attucks, who was leader and voice that day; The first to defy and the first to die, with Maverick, Carr, and Gray. Call it riot or revolution, his hand first clenched at the crown; His feet were the first in perilous place to pull the king's flag down; His breast was the first one rent apart that liberty's stream might flow; For our freedom now and forever, his head was the first laid low. Call it riot or revolution, or mob or crowd, as you may, Such deaths have been seed of nations, such lives shall be honored for aye. They were lawless hinds to the lackeys--but martyrs to Paul Revere; And Otis and Hancock and Warren read spirit and meaning clear. Ye teachers, answer: what shall be done when just men stand in the dock; When the caitiff is robed in ermine, and his sworders keep the lock; When torture is robbed of clemency, and guilt is without remorse; When tiger and panther are gentler than the Christian slaver's curse; When law is a satrap's menace, and order the drill of a horde-- Shall the people kneel to be trampled, and bare their neck to the sword? Not so! by this Stone of Resistance that Boston raises here! By the old North Church's lantern, and the watching of Paul Revere! Not so! by Paris of 'Ninety-Three, and Ulster of 'Ninety-Eight! By Toussaint in St. Domingo! by the horror of Delhi's gate! By Adams's word to Hutchinson! by the tea that is brewing still! By the farmers that met the soldiers at Concord and Bunker Hill! Not so! not so! Till the world is done, the shadow of wrong is dread; The crowd that bends to a lord to-day, to-morrow shall strike him dead. There is only one thing changeless: the earth steals from under our feet, The times and manners are passing moods, and the laws are incomplete; There is only one thing changes not, one word that still survives-- The slave is the wretch who wields the lash, and not the man in gyves! There is only one test of contract: is it willing, is it good? There is only one guard of equal right: the unity of blood; There is never a mind unchained and true that class or race allows; There is never a law to be obeyed that reason disavows; There is never a legal sin but grows to the law's disaster, The master shall drop the whip, and the slave shall enslave the master!