Classic Poem

O lord, our glorious Head! in thee,
No diff'rence parts the bond and free;
The freeman feels no more his own,—
The slave is for a brother known.

From sin's internal thraldom freed,
He that believes is free indeed;
Free—though the limbs may wear a chain:
Tyrants would bind the soul in vain.

How long shall men, by Christ redeem'd,
As beasts of burden be esteem'd?
And those, by Grace Divine renew'd,
Be doom'd to hopeless servitude?

How long the heav'ns shall Mammon brave,
God's image scorning in the slave;
While woman's rights, and tend'rest ties,
The ruthless slaves of gold despise?

For those in bonds, O Lord! we plead,
Behold, our Head! thy members bleed!
To the same body all belong:—
We mourn with those, who suffer wrong.

What though of diff'rent hue and race,
Brethren by blood, co-heirs of grace,
Our pray'rs, our sympathy they claim;—
Their wrongs our sin, their bonds our shame.

Judge of the earth, the orphan's God!
Break by our hands th' oppressor's rod:
Oh! when shall ev'ry slave be free,
New-born to glorious liberty?