Ii

O Freedom! Up to whose raised hand the seas Leap, playful lions, or with head and main Across their paws lie couchant--it is pain To see thee whose heart beats are God's decrees, And vital breathings are infinities, Now check thy heart and hold thy breath to gain The smile and plaudit of a depths with bane In finger tips, while fawning on their knees.

What! Think the tyrant, whose great soul is trade, Whose history, a crater, belching black And lurid, keeps glad Easter morning back From half the world--loves thee save to invade, As blackward planned? loves thee, along whose track March Human rights up to the stars parade?