Classic Poem

How long, Most Holy, Just, and True!
Dost THOU our blood behold?
Nor rise th' oppressor to subdue,
As in the days of old?

Where is the Pow'r, that led thy seed
From Egypt's blighted plains,
Their limbs from cruel bondage freed,
Their souls from direr chains?

Where is the Mighty Arm, that clave
The waters of the sea,
And bade the wild unsteady wave
A wall of safety be?

Where is the Hand, that brake the pow'r
Of proud Assyria's host,
Went forth at midnight's silent hour,
And laid their strength in dust?

Not shorten'd is thine Arm to save,
Not clos'd thine Ear to hear;
Soon for the crush'd and bleeding Slave
Jehovah will appear.

Then Man shall own his strength is weak,
And God exalted be:
Our iron bondage he will brake
And EV'RY SLAVE SET FREE .