When the God of Liberty

Formed of earth this mortal frame,

Breathed the breath of life in me,

And a spirit I became,

Wrapped within my swaddling bands,

Bound and fettered helplessly,1

I stretched forth my infant hands

To embrace sweet Liberty.

All night long, until the dawn,

In my cradle bound I lay;

And my sobbing’s ceaseless moan

Drove my mother’s sleep away.

As I begged her, weeping loud,

To unbind and set me free;

From that very day I vowed

I would love thee, Liberty!

When upon my parents’ ear

First my lisping accents fell,

And their hearts rejoiced to hear

Me my childish wishes tell,

Then the words that first I spoke

Were not “father, mother dear”:

“Liberty!” the accents broke

In my infant utterance clear.

“Liberty!” The voice of Doom

Echoed to me from above,

“Wilt thou swear until the tomb

Liberty to serve and love?

“Thorny is the path, and dim;

Many trials wait for thee:

Far too small this world for him

Who doth worship Liberty!”

“Liberty!” I made reply,

“O’er my head let thunders burst,

Lightnings flash, and missiles fly—

Foes conspire to do their worst;

“Till I die, or meet my doom,

On the shameful gallows-tree,—

Till the portals of the tomb,

I will shout forth Liberty!”