Classic Poem

'Tis done — 'tis done! the word is spoken;
Oppression's final hour is nigh;
The spell dissolves; the charm is broken;
Freedom's glad shout shall rend the sky!

On the great dial-plate of ages,
The light advanced, no more recedes;
On and yet on, the historic pages
Reveal God's march to him that reads!

His word of ancient promise keeping,
That wrong at last shall yield to right,
He comes — no more His justice sleeping —
For judgment comes, and clothed with might!

His ear hath heard the bondman's groaning:
His hand, of wrongs the score hath kept;
His eye hath marked when mothers moaning
Like Rachel, for their children wept.

As through the Land of Nile resounding,
His voice rang out — Let Israel go!
So rings it now, clear, loud, confounding,
To ears that well the mandate know.

Like some swift, cleaving blow, 'tis falling
On proud rebellion's vaunting crest;
The loyal and the brave 'tis calling
To stand for freedom, breast to breast.

O ye who long in hopeless sorrow,
Have toiled, and wept, and seen no dawn,
There breaks, at length, a glad to-morrow;
Wake! wake! and hail the joyous morn.

'Tis freedom's day! Its splendor glancing
From hill to vale shall flood the land;
'Tis freedom's sun to noon advancing:
Chains burst — they drop from every hand!

Oh! not in vain that blood is flowing
That stains yon fields of gory strife;
With loftier hopes and wishes glowing,
Millions are born to nobler life.

With freedom's flame glad hearts are burning;
They throb with joy before unknown;
To visions bright glad eyes are turning,
Gleams of a future all their own.

God haste it! Holy souls are praying,
Come freedom's hour with swiftest speed!
God haste it! long — ah! long delaying,
Now — now — our hosts to victory lead.