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 UKAl) IlEKiBE Tin: 
 
 )i ii;tv of tin; sons of iNfw i:\(;l\m) 
 
 PENNSYL\'ANIA, 
 
 FIRST ANNIVERSARY OF THE SOCIETY, 
 
 HE T\M) IILNLUIED AND TIIIRTV-SEVLNTU ANNIVERSARY 
 
 LV>DL\(. OF Tin: FIU.KI3IS AT PL\ >IOl Til. 
 
 BY B. m-A-iTIC. PA-Ll^EK.. 
 
 HELIVKREI), IIY UEyllEST, IN TIIK CITV OK I'll 1 LAl.EMUl A, 
 
 DECEMBER 22, 1858. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 CRISPY A MAl:l<I.KY. nilNTKIiS, (iOLD^JMlTlIS IIAI.I,. I-lKItAHY .<TnKbT. 
 
 1859. 
 
A P OEM 
 
 UKAD IlKKflRE TIIK ^ y t 
 
 SOCIETY OF TIIK SONS OF NFW FN(;L.\NJ) 
 
 IN 
 
 PENNSYLVANIA, 
 
 ON TIIK 
 
 FIRST ANNlVKIlSAin' (M- THE SOCIKTV, 
 
 AMI 
 
 TIIK TWO Hi NDRKl) AND Till IITV-SF,VENTII ANNIVKRSARV 
 
 or TIIK. 
 
 LAIVDIXii OF Tin: PIUilMMS AT PLVMOITII. 
 
 
 I)F.t,I\ KRKI>, TIY UEglKST, IS TIIK CITY OF rUILAl>FLriI I A, 
 
 DECEMBER 22, 1858. 
 
 PIIILADELPIITA : 
 
 ORISSY & M.\!U;t.V.Y, IMtlNTEIiS, «OLDSMrni< II Ml IIIMIM.Y >TRKKT. 
 
 1859. 
 
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REGULAR SENTIMENTS, 
 
 UKAD ON TlIK OCCASION, 15V TIIK I'aESIDENT OF Till) SOe•l^;l^, 
 
 WM. II. ai.iJ':n, l I.. i>. 
 
 1. The President of the United States. — Music. 
 
 '. TIjo Governor of the Commonwealtb. — Music. 
 
 '■'■. Tlie Mayor and Councils of Philadelphia. — Music. 
 
 4. Oir'Plritan' Fathers — Hard as the rock that received them, stern as 
 tlio shore that welcomed them, and sturdy as the forests that sheltered them' 
 tiiey sowed in tears the seed of that harvest of civil and religious liberty, which 
 we now reap with joy. — Response by Emerson Bennett, Esq. Poem. — Somj by 
 M. E. Parker, Esq. " Puritan Fathers." 
 
 o. Pltmocto — The home and grave of the Pilgrims; tin- niU'^ri y of au 
 empire. — Response by Professor Stephens. 
 
 '". Old Massachusetts. — Motherof States and of Ideas, llcr leaven causes 
 a brisk effervescence, and makes the whole country rise. — liesjwnse by II. R. 
 ^^''irriner, Esq., Vice-President for Massachusetts. 
 
 7. Connecticut — Her Charter Oak, the custodi.m of Freedom's Ciiarter; 
 her hearts of oak its own defence. — Response by U. Dutton, Esq. 
 
 5. Little Rhoda — Good Stuff in a small parcel. She basks in the smiles of 
 Providence, and the mountain of her confidence is Jlope. — Response by If. Ci. 
 Jones, Esq. 
 
 'J. ^'KR>IONT — The Green Mountain Hoys, who fought the battles of tiieir 
 country, won chaplets wuvcn from her own mountain laurel. In the hearts of 
 her sons in Pennsylvania, their memory, like hers, is evergreen. — Music by the 
 Germania Music Society. 
 
10. New TIampshire — The Granite, her bed; the sea, lier footbath; the 
 clouds, her cauopy ; the eagle, her standard-bearer ; as a grower of great men 
 she bears the palm, and she has borne o)ie Palmer. — Resjyonse hy the Vice- 
 President at Large, of the Society. Poem. 
 
 11. Maine — AVhile she sends her Ice to every mart, she manages to keep 
 cool ; -while her ships encounter every storm on every sea she won't " splice the 
 main brace;" and while her sons are in every land, she retains a sufficient num- 
 ber at home to make her the Jllain State. — Rcsponsehy the President of the Society. 
 
 12. New England and Pennsylvania — Land of our birth, and land of our 
 adoption. Both ours, and equally dear. As both grow rich by interchange of 
 commodities, so the sons and daughters of both should grow friendly by mutual 
 benefits and courtesies, until they love one another. — Response by Rev. Moses 
 Ballou, Chaplain of the Society. 
 
 13. Puiladelphia — We came (o her as strangers, and she received us as 
 
 brothers. 
 
 " New friends, new joys, new hopes, wo found 
 A welcome and a borne." ' 
 
 Response by Henry Davis, Esq. 
 
 14. The Pkess — Its proofs are the best proofs of human progress, and 
 20,000 arguments in its favor are 20,000 copies an hour. — Response by A. J. 
 McCleary, Esq. 
 
 15. New England Ideas and Yankee Notions — Products of cute heads 
 and smart hands. The first, the motive power of improvement ; the second, 
 the improvement of motive power. — Chorus. Song ivritten by a lady. 
 
 16. The Ladies — Daugbtei's of New England and Pennsylvania. As flowers 
 and stars adorn earth and slsy, so they grace our festival with beauty and 
 light. — Music by the Ilarmonia Society. 
 
POEM. 
 
 MU. riiKSIDKNT, 
 
 AND I.ADIKS AND <;KNTM;MK\: 
 
 It is most unfortunate for the State which has grown so many 
 Ill-cat men, that a man so small as the only "one" present who bears 
 the name alluded to in the sentiment just read, should be obliged to 
 respond to the call on this occasion — for lie bears no oratorical or 
 poetical palms. 
 
 With this disclaimer your respondent will now proceed to palm 
 upon you a few desultory thoughts in fugitive rhyme. 
 
 New Hampshire I how fondly thy memories I greet ! 
 I still am thy chihl, and my heart turns to thee ! 
 And long as the ocean shall lave thy fair feet — 
 And long as the granite thy broad bed shall be — 
 I'll bless every crag of the dear Motherland 
 That lifts its gray crest to the cloud-riven sky ; 
 And perish this tongue, and this cunning right hand, 
 "When the heart is not moved by thy wild eagle's cry ! 
 
 I have beard, o'er thy hills, (when the merciless blast 
 
 Howled back to the thunders a murmuring wail,) 
 
 The shriek of the oak and the tall native mast. 
 
 As when tempest and lightning rive timber and sail I 
 
 Then, high o'er his eyrie that swung on the cloud. 
 
 The bald eagle guarded the pall of the sky I 
 
 And when lurid bolts rent the Storm-demon's shroud, 
 
 He screamed to his brood from his mansion on hiirh. 
 
P O E .^I . 
 
 So, on thj stern LillS; is the true yeoman's arm 
 
 Well nerved to contend with the rock-girded soil; 
 
 And trusting to Heaven to forefend all harm, 
 
 He heeds not the blast as he speeds in his toil. 
 
 But, jocund of heart and with strong willing limb, 
 
 He guides that great engine of life — the old phxo — 
 
 The State owes her wealth and her honor to him 
 
 Who wipes, with brown hands, honeU siceat from his brow ! 
 
 Then fear not, thou fair one, to press such a hand ; 
 
 Be sure that its grasp speaks a soul that is firm ; 
 
 A man whose sound head gives true wealth to a land — 
 
 Whose hand tills the sod where springs Liberty's germ. 
 
 It springs like the oak from the glebe's rugged crest — 
 
 An honest tear waters its tendcrest youth — 
 
 Now the sunbeams of heaven on its broad branches rest, 
 
 And the tree towers in Freedom's fair glory and truth ! 
 
 Its boughs are the ensigns that float o'er the brave, — 
 Whose type is the eagle that down to them screams ; 
 And when they call back " Yes ! t?ie State we will save"- 
 Then wo to the demagogues' dazzling day-dreams ! 
 For, like the dread slide, of rocks, torrents, and earth. 
 That leaps down the mountains with terriblest sweep, 
 These sons of the sod in their armour come forth, 
 And great little tyrants are roused from their sleep I 
 
 They wake ! but too late do they open their eyes, 
 
 For they're ridin;/ the avalanche down from the height 
 
 They wake to behold a most grievous surprise. 
 
 As low in the party's deep puddle they light ! 
 
 But, lest you suspect me of one-sided views, 
 
 My "platform" Fll publish in true honest phrase— 
 
 The /ree-dem-Eclectic I boldly will choose, 
 
 For that seems to have the best planks in these days. 
 
r K ^^ . 
 
 I come not, my friends, here with partisan rhymes — 
 I speak of no party, no faction, no clique — 
 I speak not of present nor of the past times — 
 I only of facts and of incidents speak ! 
 My rhymes have one merit — unlimited scope — 
 They break party lines and record living facts; — 
 They hang but the hangman, and on his own rope — 
 Behead but the beadsman, and with his own axe ! 
 
 This Brotherhood holds no sectarian views, 
 
 The true, of all sects, on a level here stand ; 
 
 And ilrah cloth, or black, with hiyh boots, or hic shoes 
 
 May be worn by a son of thin New England band ! 
 
 And no party politics enters our creed — 
 
 Cutaneous statesmen need not here appeal — 
 
 No such panting patriots here shall e'er bleed — 
 
 No martyrs unhroiled here the fagots shall feel I 
 
 So now my good friend, if a Dimocrat, know 
 This sluliiiij from power, to which I allude, 
 Was seccral seasons or longer ago, 
 When manfully shoulder to shoulder you stood — 
 Or, fierce to the drum's thrilling war-beat, you rode 
 With trusty old firelock and broad sword in hand, 
 Ilesistlcssly on through //rr, tempest and jlnod. 
 To raise the fallen standard apain in our land ! 
 
 But, if you are swelling with Free-soil ideas, 
 
 And swung your old hat to no purpose, when last 
 
 The rampant horse, "Woolly," pritkcd up his /?Ht' ears, 
 
 And snorted and pawed to the bmjlc's wUd blast! 
 
 O then later doings (I guess) I rehearse — 
 
 But, mind you, no seer hath the Future foretold I 
 
 So thus non-committal shall stand my poor verse — 
 
 O Union ! stand firm, when this poor heart is cold ! 
 
P E M . 
 
 how shall the inusc, unaccustomed, indite 
 A strain that befits so exalted a theme ? 
 
 The " Nine" with charmed fingers an epic might write 
 Yet tell not the bliss of our goddess's dream. 
 With tremulous heart, and with faltering hand, 
 
 1 waken the harp-string to Liberty's sound — 
 
 Its numbers have thrilled where wave answers to strand, 
 And mountain to valley re-echoes them round ! 
 
 The bard and the druid have swept o'er each chord — 
 The prophet and priest have bent over its tone — 
 The psalmist hath tuned it to Faith's cheering word. 
 And "felt hands of fire" directing his own. 
 Old Jura hath listened, red Sinai hath spoken. 
 And Palestine wakes at the poet's soft touch ; 
 Greece, Sparta, and Rome have, in phalanx unbroken, 
 Marched forth to the music the soul loves so much ! 
 
 It rings, like these strains, to Germania's praise* — 
 
 O'er Poland and Hungary murmurs its sigh — 
 
 Old Gallia flames with the fierce iVarsei'Uaise, 
 
 And *' God save the queen" rings through Albion's sky I 
 
 I list to the strain that down Avon has rolled 
 
 Till Ocean's loud billows call back from afcir — 
 
 I hear the lone exile, as, weary and cold, 
 
 He strikes to the numbers of "Erin go bragh ;" 
 
 I hear Caledonia, vocal with strains, 
 
 As Abbottsford answers to Ettrick's wild hill ; 
 
 And Erin, through all of her sorrows, retains 
 
 "■ The Harp that through Tara's Halls" ever shall thrill ! 
 
 I sigh for the rapturous music that rolled 
 
 Along the sweet banks of the pure gurgling Ayr — 
 
 For the harp, like the heart, of the poet is cold, 
 
 And his eye rests no more on that " lingering star." 
 
 ■■■•" Tlie Gerniania bainl f■|^■ni^sllod tlic nui.sic for the occasion. 
 
p o E >r . 
 
 IJut nn\v the Nkw Woiu.K feels tlio vibrations grand, 
 That master-hands wake round the Puritans' shrine; 
 And the refluent wave, from Columbia's strand 
 ]?ears treasures as rich as the waifs of Lang Sync ! 
 llcr son<js bless (he hinJ, and their life-cheering strains 
 Have given new heart-beats of hope o'er the wave; 
 Then while Freedom wakes, or our Country remains, 
 "The star sPAN<iLEi) hanner" shall lead on the uraveI 
 
 llcr sons, 'uiid.-it the joys of the Orient may roam, 
 
 And linger where'er the "old genii" have trod; 
 
 llut the heart's inner chord still shall murmcr "Sweet Home," 
 
 And the pilgrim-foot haste to press Liberty's sod. 
 
 Poor Howard Payne sounded the key-note sublime — 
 
 And lo ! what a chorus of joy shakes the skies; 
 
 Like holy bells ringing their joyfulest chime 
 
 The paeans of freedom and glory arise I 
 
 Now the great Stale (near sunrise) with bugle-blast strong, 
 
 llesponds to her son's (and our PresiJenl's) call ; 
 
 No need has she here of her home-poet's song — 
 
 ller main man is our's — poet — orator — all — 
 
 3Iay the Green Mountain Laurels QwWxnc hearts of Ool-y 
 
 And Bunker s brave sons trust in Providence still; 
 
 Then the " Old (granite) Man " for the main chance will look, 
 
 And murmur, " a las ? I'm alonr, hy Mars Hill ! " 
 
 ]5at now your cars long for a different jingle. 
 
 And ril sec if the triani/le's lost all its tingle ; 
 
 So look out for strikes in my car-splitting sham -metre, 
 
 And on I'll proceed in hcxa-pentametcr. 
 
 A fellow, seas over, has hurled at one poet 
 
 A mud hall, (and he's just (he fellow to throw it,) 
 
 And as no one stronger has levied a whack at him, 
 
 I deem it my duty to fling the ball back at him. 
 
 This fellow with jeers calls our fellow " Protracted " — 
 
 lie may call him so Lonj (tho' 'tis meanly he's acted) 
 
 For the " Psalm of life " rolling adown future ages, 
 
 Shall outlive the fairest of Tennyson's pages! 
 
10 POEM. 
 
 'Tis true we've uo armor-clad hero Ulysses, 
 
 No comely Calypso to fool him with kisses ; 
 
 But I'll put on the course the old Indian killer, 
 
 Who sighed for his goddess — '■'■ the maiden Priscilla" — 
 
 Yes, let the old "Puritan captain" — Miles Standish — 
 
 Bring down his great foot, and his burnished arms brandish 
 
 As he did when John Alden said the off ei' dicV nt please' er, 
 
 And you have a full match for Ulysses and Cassar ! 
 
 And in the long run one Long (poet) fellow, 
 
 (Only give him a turf that's a little more mellow,) 
 
 Will win every heat — and of poetry show more 
 
 Than Pope ever did in his hulls for old Homer I 
 
 Young America heeds not the strictures outlandish, 
 Which John Bull has aimed at the " Courtship of Standish ) 
 If 'tis true that the Cojytain in love made a short trip — 
 John Alden sped bravely for " Miles " in the Courtship ! 
 Growl on, if it jolease thee, thou surly old lion — 
 The eagle, spread o'er thee, undaunted will fly on^- 
 With an eye on the muse, on the arts, and on science. 
 The sun-soaring bird hnoics you seek Ids alliance 1 
 When the storm of religious oppression did lower — 
 When the last prayer arose from the Puritan's bower — 
 When the Sea-god arose in his terriblest power — 
 When lashed by the waves rode the sacred Mayflower — 
 The bird beat the surges with unyielding pinion, 
 Now, perched on our banner, he spurns all dominion ! 
 In his flights o'er the land the proud bird may be wounded. 
 For he sweeps the red fields where the war-blast is sounded ; 
 Barbed arrows are sped 'mong the stars where he's sailing, 
 But the banner shall ne'er in the dust be seen trailing ! 
 
 Now let me, kind friends, in your hearing rehearse 
 
 Some lines from the " Wonderful Quiz " (in the fable 
 
 Which led me so far from the track of my verse 
 
 That I fear to return I shall never be able.) 
 
 The author — a kind tho' satirical chap — 
 
 Gives our charming young goddess a terrible slap, 
 
im)i:m. 11 
 
 Yet sure I am that I sec in his strictures 
 Some life touches, sltckivij straujht out in the pictures. 
 "And I honor the man who is willing to sink 
 Half his present repute for the freedom — (o (hinlc, 
 And when he has thought, be his cause strong or weak, 
 Will risk t'other half for i\\c freedom to speak — 
 Caring not for what vengoancc the mob has in store, 
 Let the mob be the upper ten thousand, or lower ! 
 
 <' There are truths you Americans need to be told, 
 
 And it ncvcr'll refute them to swagger and scold; 
 
 John Bull, looking over the Atlantic in cholcr 
 
 At your aptness for trade, says you worship the dollar ; 
 
 But to scorn such i-doUar-try's what very few do, 
 
 And John goes to that church as often as you do. 
 
 No matter what John says, don't try to out-crow him I 
 
 Tis enough to go quietly on and cut-grow him ! 
 
 Like most fathers, Bull hates to sec Number One 
 
 Displacing himself in the tuind of his son ; 
 
 And detests the same faults in himself he'd neglected, 
 
 When he sees them again in his child's glass reflected. 
 
 • There are one or two things I should just like to say, 
 For you don't often get the truth told in our day ; 
 A few of you (this is what strikes all beholders) 
 Ilavc a mental and physieal stoop in the shoulders ; 
 Though you ought to be free as the winds and the waves. 
 You've the gait and the manners of runaway slaves I 
 Though you brag of your New World you don't half believe in it, 
 And as much of the Old as is possible weave in it ; 
 Y'our goddess of freedom, a tight buxom girl, 
 With lips like a cherry and teeth like a pearl, 
 With eyes bold as IJcre's and hair floating free, 
 And full of the sun as the spray of the sea, 
 Who can sing at a husking or romp at a shearing, 
 Who can trip through the forests alone without fearing, 
 ^Vho can drive home the cows with a song, through the grass, 
 Keeps glnncing aside into Europe's cracked glass. 
 
12 roEM. 
 
 Hides ber red hands in gloves, pinches up her lithe waist, 
 And makes herself wretched with transmarine taste. 
 She loses ber fresh country charm when she takes 
 Any mirror except her own rivers and lakes ! 
 
 " You steal Englishmen's books, and think Englishmen's thought, 
 
 With their salt on her tail your wild eagle is caught, 
 
 Your literature suits its each whisper and motion 
 
 To ^ ichat loill be thought of it over the ocean !' 
 
 The cast clothes of Europe your statesmanship tries, 
 
 And mumbles again the old blarneys and lies. 
 
 Forget Europe wholly, your veins throb with blood 
 
 To which the dull current in hers is but mud ; 
 
 Let her sneer, let her say your experiment fails. 
 
 In her voice there's a tremble e'en now while she rails; 
 
 And your shore will soon be, in the nature of things, 
 
 Covered thick with gilt driftwood of runaway kings, 
 
 Where alone, as it were, in a Longfellow's waif, 
 
 Y{qx fugitive ineces will find themselves safe. 
 
 0, my friends, thank your God (if you have one) that he 
 
 Twixt the Old World and you set the gulf of a sea ; 
 
 Be strong-backed, brown-handed, upright as your pines. 
 
 By the scale of a hemisphere shape your designs, 
 
 Be true to yourselves and this new nineteenth age. 
 
 As a statue by Powers, or a picture by Page, 
 
 Plough, dig, sail, forge, build, carve, paint, make all things new, 
 
 To your own New World instincts contrive to be true ; 
 
 Keep your ears open wide to the Future's first call — 
 
 Be whatever you loill hnt yourselves first of all — 
 
 Stand fronting the dawn on Toil's heaven-scaling peaks, 
 
 And become a new race of more practical Greeks. 
 
 " Here — forgive me, Apollo — and now let m,e pour 
 
 My heart out to my birth-place, O loved more and more, 
 
 Dear blessed New Hampshire ! ah, now as I speak 
 
 I hear on her railroads Caliope shriek ! 
 
 The cataract-throb of her mill-hearts I hear. 
 
 The swift strokes of trip-hammers weary my ear — 
 
1' i: >[ . 13 
 
 hfK'iJgcs ring upon anvils — tliruugh logs the saw screams — 
 
 IJlocks swing to their places — beetles drive home the buaiiih — 
 
 It is sontrs such as these that she croons to the din 
 
 Of her fast-flying shuttles year out and year in, 
 
 "While from earth's farthest corner there comes not a breeze 
 
 IJut wafts her the buzz of her gold-glcaniing bees. 
 
 AVliat though those horn hands have, as yet, found small time 
 
 For painting and sculpture, and music and rhyme, 
 
 These will come in due order; the need that pressed sorest 
 
 Was to vanquish the seasons, the ocean, the forest. 
 
 To bridle and harness the rivers and steam, 
 
 Making that whirl her mill wheels, this tug in hor team, 
 
 To vassalize old tyrant Winter, and make 
 
 Him delve surlily for her on river and lake I 
 
 When this New World was parted she strove not to shirk 
 
 1 lor lot in the heirdom, the tough silent work I — 
 
 Yes, thou dear Granite State, if ever man's praise 
 
 Could be claimed for creating heroical lays — 
 
 Thou hast won it — if ever the laurel divine 
 
 Crowned the Maker and Builder, that glory is thine. 
 
 Thy songs are right epic — they tell how this rude 
 
 llock-rib of New England was tamed and subdued. 
 
 Thou hast written them plain on the face of the planet. 
 
 In bold deathless letters of iroti and tjranitel 
 
 And if any old drones should, in querulous ease. 
 
 Ask thy art and thy letters, point proudly to these — 
 
 Or, if they deny these are letters and art, 
 
 Toil on with the same old invincible heart ! 
 
 Thou art rearing the pedestal broad-based and grand, 
 
 Whereon the fair shapes of the artist shall stand; 
 
 And creating, through labors undaunted and long, 
 
 The true theme for all sculpture, and painting, and song." 
 
 Thy daughters I ah, they need no poor praisi- uf mine — 
 Their lii-cs best exhibit the graces divine. 
 *' Ah, there's many abeam from the fountain ot day, 
 That to reach us, unclouded, must pass on its way, 
 Through the soul of a woman! that's always wide ope 
 
14 roEM. 
 
 To the influence of Heaven, as the blue eyes of Hope ! 
 
 Yes, a great soul is her's, one that dares to go in 
 
 To the prison, the rude hut, the alleys of sin — 
 
 And to bring into each, or to find there, some line 
 
 Of the never completely out-trampled divine ! 
 
 If her heart, at high tides, swamps her brain now and then, 
 
 Tis but richer for that when the tide ebbs again !" 
 
 What wealth does she bring to man, surly and sour 
 
 In the shambles of trade, or in Love's golden bower ! 
 
 ' Hail, lovely New England ! the laud of my boast — 
 How happy thy homes by lake, river, and sea ! 
 Thy hills roll their harvest-wealth down to the coast. 
 Where Commerce her white wing spreads wide over thee ; 
 And long as Mount Washington looks on the wave. 
 To bless, with his smile, the lone exile's dim eye ; 
 stretch forth, in kindness, thy strong arm to save 
 The heart that comes laden with misery's sigh. 
 
 Potential New England — the pride of the land — 
 The nursery of Empire is trusted to thee ! 
 The cradle of Liberty rocks by thy strand — 
 These, these are your shrines, ye sons of the free ! 
 Then guard ye the rock and the hallowed sod, 
 On which your brave fathers — a prayer-loving band- 
 First stepped from the Mayflower, worshiping God, 
 For Freedom they found and preserved iu the land ! 
 
 My country ! I view, with a heart full of pride. 
 The fame of thy sons and the vastness of thee ; 
 Thy golden gate ope's to Pacific's broad tide — 
 Thy sons to the pole plow the disc of the sea ; 
 And long as that gray shaft, in grandeur sublime, 
 Shall tower o'er the graves where the patriots sleep, 
 Their names shall be traced on the pillars of Time, 
 Where'er Freedom's angel her vigils shall keep ! 
 
V () K M 
 
 80 thou in each science and art slialt excel — 
 
 Thus "good will toward man " o'er the earth will increase 
 
 And where'er thy sails of the triumph shall tell, 
 
 The angel of mercy will often say — " Peace. " 
 
 Sail on I let the starry flag kiss every sky ! 
 
 Great ark of the Nation?, thou'rt leading the van — 
 
 Sail on I where'er mortals for liberty sigh — 
 
 IJoar hope to the down-trodden — Freedom to VKtit .' 
 

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