1864
                               THE FREEMAN'S HYMN

                            by William Cullen Bryant









şiElectronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R)
DAK Upgraded Edition, Copyright 2000, DAK Industries 2000, Inc(R)şI

{THE_FREEMANS_HYMN
             THE FREEMAN'S HYMN
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         In eastern lands a servile race
           May bow to thrones and diadems;
         And hide in dust the abject face,
           Before the glare of gold and gems.
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         For us, we kneel to One alone;
           And freemen worship only Him
         Before the brightness of whose throne
           The proudest pomps of earth are dim.
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         And therefore to his children here
           This bright and blooming land He gave,
         Where famine never blasts the year,
           Nor plagues, nor earthquakes glut the grave;
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         A land where all the gifts unite
           That Heaven bestows to make life sweet;
         A land of peace, a land of light,
           A land where truth and mercy meet.
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                        THE END