To J.R. Giddings

Giddings, far rougher names than thine have grown Smoother than honey on the lips of men; And thou shalt aye be honorably known, As one who bravely used his tongue and pen. As best befits a freeman,--even for those To whom our Law's unblushing front denies A right to plead against the lifelong woes Which are the Negro's glimpse of Freedom's skies: Fear nothing, and hope all things, as the Right Alone may do securely; every hour The thrones of Ignorance and ancient Night Lose somewhat of their long-usurpèd power, And Freedom's lightest word can make them shiver With a base dread that clings to them forever.