1864

THE FREEMAN'S HYMN

by William Cullen Bryant

THE FREEMAN'S HYMN -

In eastern lands a servile race

May bow to thrones and diadems;

And hide in dust the abject face,

Before the glare of gold and gems. -

For us, we kneel to One alone;

And freemen worship only Him

Before the brightness of whose throne

The proudest pomps of earth are dim. -

And therefore to his children here

This bright and blooming land He gave,

Where famine never blasts the year,

Nor plagues, nor earthquakes glut the grave; -

A land where all the gifts unite

That Heaven bestows to make life sweet;

A land of peace, a land of light,

A land where truth and mercy meet. - -