Page:The Statues in the Block and Other Poems (1881).djvu/107

Rh Why rusted the gyve in the bondman's blood, No hope for him but the grave? Out of thousands there why was it so That one hundred hearts must feel The bitterest pang of the penal woe, And the grind of a nation's heel?

Why, but for choice—the bondman's choice? They balanced the gains and pains; They took their chance of the chains. There spake in their hearts a hidden voice Of the blinding joy of a freeman's burst Through the great dim woods. Then the toil accurst; The scorching days and the nights in tears The riveted rings for years and years; They weighed them all—they looked before At the one and other, and spoke them o'er, And they saw what the heart of man must see, That the uttermost blessing is Liberty!