The Fugitive-Slave Law

The Fugitive-Slave Law

Restore the Fugitive! Ay, when 
The Son of Gods descends again

And bids me never more to do

As I would fain be done unto.

Restore the Fugitive! I will
When God's own voice in man is still,

And wrong is right by God's decree,

And light and air no longer free.

Restore the Fugitive! No, ne'er
While I've a home, a shelter, where

The persecuted one may bide,

Castle or grave, and side by side.

Restore the Fugitive! The law
Is like the cords that Samson wore,

And mature, were each thread a chain,

Would snap a thousand such in twain.

Independent

William B. Fowle

1:13, p. 1

10.26.1861