  ————— Written at the Tomb of Col. Hutchinson, Owthorpe, Nottinghamshire. ————— Hail! heaven-born Liberty! I feel thy pow’r Awakening in my breast, at this lone hour, As o’er thy martyr’s tomb I fondly bend; Such holy, fervent ecstasy, That health, and strength, and life, for thee! In noble daring I would freely spend. Who blushes not, to bear the name of Slave, Let him not venture near this hallow’d grave. There is a fresh’ning odour round, Which makes the freeman’s heart to bound Like summer leaves;—but the blanch’d cheek, Tyrants and vassals show,—bespeak A fear is on them, which awakens dread, As though their step should rouse th’ indignant dead. |
|
