Yield Not the Right

Dublin Core


Yield Not the Right


Yield not the Right
In Freedom's fight;
The rallying cry renew,
Ye patriots who have fought and won,
And yet the war is but begun;
Humanity in you
Still trusts; be true!

Yield not your Right
In Freedom's fight;
Our Country is not free,
While yet one soul that seeks to gain
Bare justice seeks that boon in vain;
While on our nation rests the stain–
The blighted curse, ah me!
Of Slavery.

Yield not the Right
In Freedom's fight;
Though traffic's sorid crew,
Like their base prototype of old,
May barter principle for gold;
Or like their wares be bought and sold:
An uncorrupted few
Remains still true.

Yield not the Right
In Freedom's fight;
Though craven spirits may,
In fear desert our noble stand,
While rebels, threatening fire and brand,
(Vain braggarts) the base deed demand;
Shall we like slaves obey?
Vile thought, away!

Yield not the Right
In freedom's fight
[?] motto be,
[?] while remains
[?] slave in chains;
[?] courses in our veins;
Until, as well as we,
All men are free.

Yield not the Right
In Freedom's fight,
Should warlike hosts assail;
But let our Country's echoes swell
The cry, "To arms? the foe repel!"
Sound Freedom's paean, Slavery's knell!
God and the Right prevail!
Freemen all hail!




1:4, p. 1




Unattributed, “Yield Not the Right,” Periodical Poets, accessed April 14, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/710.


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