Page:Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier (1895).djvu/307

Rh Oh human hearts, as on the sky,
 * With holier, tenderer beauty shining;

As to the parting soul were given The radiance of an opening heaven! As if that pure and blessed light,
 * From off the Eternal altar flowing,

Were bathing, in its upward flight,
 * The spirit to its worship going!

God for the token! one lip is still free, One spirit untrammelled, unbending one knee! Like the oak of the mountain, deep-rooted and firm, Erect, when the multitude bends to the storm; When traitors to Freedom, and Honor, and God, Are bowed at an Idol polluted with blood; When the recreant North has forgotten her trust, And the lip of her honor is low in the dust,— Thank God, that one arm from the shackle has broken! Thank God, that one man as a freeman has spoken!

O’er thy crags, Alleghany, a blast has been blown! Down thy tide, Susquehanna, the murmur has gone! To the land of the South, of the charter and chain, Of Liberty sweetened with Slavery’s pain; Where the cant of Democracy dwells on the lips Of the forgers of fetters, and wielders of whips! Where “chivalric” honor means really no more Than scourging of women, and robbing the poor! Where the Moloch of Slavery sitteth on high, And the words which he utters, are—Worship, or die!

Right onward, oh, speed it! Wherever the blood Of the wronged and the guiltless is crying to God; Wherever a slave in his fetters is pining; Wherever the lash of the driver is twining; Wherever from kindred, torn rudely apart, Comes the sorrowful wail of the broken of heart; Wherever the shackles of tyranny bind, In silence and darkness, the God-given mind; There, God speed it onward! its truth will be felt, The bonds shall be loosened, the iron shall melt!