Song Of The Free

By John Greenleaf Whittier

Pride of New England!
Soul of our fathers!
Shrink we all craven-like,
When the storm gathers?
What though the tempest be
Over us lowering,
Where's the New Englander
Shamefully cowering?
Graves green and holy
Around us are lying, --
Free were the sleepers all,
Living and dying!

Back with the Southerner's
Padlocks and scourges!
Go -- let him fetter down
Ocean's free surges!
Go -- let him silence
Winds, clouds, and waters --
Never New England's own
Free sons and daughters!
Free as our rivers are
Ocean-ward going --
Free as the breezes are
Over us blowing.

Up to our altars, then,
Haste we, and summon
Courage and loveliness,
Manhood and woman!
Deep let our pledges be:
Freedom for ever!
Truce with oppression,
Never, oh! never!
By our own birthright-gift
Granted of Heaven --
Freedom for heart and lip,
Be the pledge given!

If we have whispered truth,
Whisper no longer;
Speak as the tempest does,
Sterner and stronger;
Still be the tones of truth
Louder and firmer,
Startling the haughty South
With the deep murmur:
God and our charter's right,
Freedom for ever!
Truce with oppression,
Never, oh! never!

1836.