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To watch no more for evil's grave alarms,
To fight no more for freedom's priceless charms;
To live in wait of horrors to ensue,
To do whate'er their master bids them do.
Their choice, where wide-furled flags of freedom wave,
To fill a helpless slave's ignoble grave.
Why are they slaves? Can mountain chains reply?
They only echo back the question "Why?"
Can ocean waves the burdened problems solve
That many hearts, and hopes, and homes involve?
Answer, ye glittering stars with wisdom fraught,
The stars are dumb, the breakers answer not;
There is no reason and no answer given,
Though mighty hills with thunderings were riven.
The question stands unanswered by a voice:
Why will a man make slavery his choice,
When Liberty her triumph song awakes
And sheds her light on every path he takes?


PEACE ON EARTH

Tired was my soul, more weary than my frame,
Of life's hard battle between right and wrong;
Weary and sick I cried: "Not wealth or fame,
Give me not happiness or titled name,
But the sweet angel's song;
As the tired shepherds at the Saviour's birth,
May not God's angels sing me, Peace on Earth?"
Then a white angel opened wide the door,
Softly my weary spirit entered in
And God's pure angels, hovering gently o'er,
Shut out earth's strife and sin,
And folded their broad wings of light around
The Heavenly peace my soul on earth had found.

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