Page:Poems written during the progress of the abolition question in the United States.djvu/76



Oh, Thou, whose presence went before Our fathers in their weary way, As with Thy chosen moved of youre The fire by night—the cloud by day! When from each temple of the free, A nation's song ascends to Heaven, Most Holy Father! unto Thee May not our humble prayer be given? Thy children all—though hue and form Are varied in Thine own good will— With Thy own holy breathings warm, And fashioned in Thine image still.