  Oh, tell me, what spirit sweeps over the land, Uniting and rousing our numbers? And why does the North in full panoply stand, Like a giant aroused from long slumbers— Like a giant aroused from long slumbers? ’Twas a cry for aid that o’er us swept, They were murdering Kansas while we slept. But the North will not always submit to a wrong; Once roused from her sleep, she ne’er falters. To Kansas, despite the whole South, shall belong Free soil, and free speech, and free altars— Free soil, and free speech, and free altars. The cry of Freedom each free man heeds, And our cause must win, for Lincoln leads. |
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