Long, too long, have we been dreaming
O'er our country's sin and shame:
Let us now, the time redeeming,
Press the helpless captive's claim,
Till, exulting,
He shall cast aside his chain.



THE FLYING SLAVE.

Air--To Greece we give our shining blades.


The night is dark, and keen the air,
And the Slave is flying to be free;
His parting word is one short prayer;
O God, but give me Liberty!
Farewell--farewell;
Behind I leave the whips and chains,
Before me spreads sweet Freedom's plains.

One star shines in the heavens above,
That guides him on his lonely way;--
Star of the North--how deep his love
For thee, thou star of Liberty!
Farewell--farewell;
Behind he leaves the whips and chains,
Before him spreads sweet Freedom's plains.