Classic Poem

Tho ' sacred the tie that our country entwineth,
And dear to the heart her remembrance remains,
Yet dark are the ties where no liberty shineth,
And sad the remembrance that slavery stains.
O thou who wert born in the cot of the peasant,
But diest in languor in luxury's dome,
Our vision when absent—our glory, when present—
Where thou art, O Liberty! there is my home.

Farewell to the land where in childhood I 've wandered!
In vain is she mighty, in vain is she brave!
Unblest is the blood that for tyrants is squandered,
And fame has no wreaths for the brow of the slave.

But hail to thee. Albion! who meet'st the commotion
Of Europe as calm as thy cliffs meet the foam!
With no bonds but the law, and no slave but the ocean,
Hail, Temple of Liberty! thou art my home.