"Hail to the land"

"Hail to the land"

Hail to the land, where the white man breathes free as the air,
But the soul-fetter'd black man pours the wail of despair!
Where the alter with the flame of Liberty glows,
But the Temple's surrounded with Slavery's woes: -
Where the light of the incense-fire burns brightly and high,
But the attendants around it are "pro-slavery!"
Paradoxical in ethics as this seems to be.
This free republic is but partially free.
The scourge of the oppressor, the whip and the brand,
The chain, and the groans are seen and heard thro' the land,
In soul-doomed ignorance the slave lives and dies -
His spirit spurns the bond-clay, and soars to the skies!
O' land unregenerate! - cast off they disgrace -
Unfetter the worn victim, and pity his race;
Atone for the dire wrongs your fathers have done,
To the heart-given bondsmen - atone for your own;
Think how dear's freedom to the awaken'd mind,
The bounty of heav'n - the birth-right of man- kind!
Unlock the dark soul - give the wrong's negro light!
Is he not MAN? - say he is, and give him his right.

No union but of the enlighten'd free,
Can spring and flourish in a land of liberty;
As well might night's darkness vie with meridian light,
As Slavery with Freedom be brought to unite.
He who wields the British sceptre can proudly say -
"No crouching slave breathes where'er I hold my sway; -
From where the sun rises, to where he sets in night, -
O'er all my realms beams Freedom's universal light!"
Can Slavery, accurst, be but Liberty's grave?
Who holds a slave is morally himself a slave -
The voice of past ages cries aloud from the tomb,
"The rank week of Slavery blights Freedom's fair bloom!"

'Tis well! - it is not all darkness - a star doth arise,
Burning and beaming in the Congressional skies;
A star more conspicuous from the contrasted gloom,
That thickens around like the death-darken'd tomb!
With the bold front of a Patriot he tow'ring stood,
Supporting the right of Petition unmoved;
That the slave had his rights - at least to pray and implore
His oppressors the boon, which nature gave, to restore.
What - though the slaveholders, like the tornado storm,
Raged fiercely around his venerable form,
Unflinchingly he brav'd the elemental din,
Calm and serenely imperturbably within.
The infuriate ire of pro-slavery men,
But roused the lion with fresh might from his den;
'Midst the conflicting elements of wrath and strife,
He buoy'd up like the Ark on the Waters of Life!
For mere expediency, he scorned to barter
His country's rights - her declaratory Charter;
No recreant spirit impell'd his lofty soul -
He spoke for his birth land as an Universal whole.
O, Scion-member of a venerate sire!
Glowing with the pure warmth of patriotic fire
To thee thy country looks with an expectant eye,
Thy country! the cradle of atlantic liberty!
Thy parent, a genuine patriot confest,
From you region, where dwells the Spirits of the blest,
Looks down on his approv'd son with an angel's smile,
And prays for Freedom's blessing on his natal soil!

B.Y.D.

1:27, p. 2-3

1837.07.08

The following lines were elicited on perusing some account of the noble conduct of the Hon. John Quincy Adams, in supporting the right of Petition and freedom of debate, in the United States' Congress - Session, Feb'y, 1836.