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Rh Are ye not base slaves indeed,

Slaves unworthy to be freed?

Women! who shall one day bear

Sons to breathe New England air,

If ye hear, without a blush,

Deeds to make the roused blood rush

Like red lava through your veins,

For your sisters now in chains,—

Answer! are ye fit to be

Mothers of the brave and free?

Is true Freedom but to break

Fetters for our own dear sake,

And, with leathern hearts, forget

That we owe mankind a debt?

No! true freedom is to share

All the chains our brothers wear,

And, with heart and hand, to be

Earnest to make others free!

They are slaves who fear to speak

For the fallen and the weak;

They are slaves who will not choose

Hatred, scoffing, and abuse,

Rather than in silence shrink

They are slaves who dare not be

In the right with two or three.