To freedom from the earliest days,
The soul of poetry has given
The tribute of its mighty lays,
A note, that had its breath from heaven.

Nations have started at its call;
And not a heart and not a hand
Was absent from the living wall
That rose around the bleeding land.

And yet, which gives the greatest pain?
The links the outward man that bind?
Or that unseen but galling chain,
Which subjugates the sinful mind?

Oh Sinner! If there's truth and power
In all that calls us to be free,
Awake! 'Tis now the day, the hour!
Arise, assert thy liberty!