FREEDOM’S JOURNEY.

Freedom! a nursling of the North,
    Rock’d in the arms of stormy pines,
On fond adventure wander’d forth
    Where south the sun superbly shines;
           The prospect shone so bright and fair,

           She dream’t her home was there, was there.

She lodged ’neath many a gilded roof,
    They gave her praise in many a hall,
Their kindness check’d the free reproof,
    Her heart dictated to let fall;

           She heard the Negro’s helpless prayer,
           And felt her home could not be there.

She sought thro’ rich Savannah’s green
    And in the proud Palmetto grove,
But where her Altar should have been

    She found nor liberty nor love;
           A cloud came o’er her forehead fair,
           She found no shrine to freedom there. [Page 49]

Back to her native scenes she turn’d,
    Back to the hardy, kindly North,

Where bright aloft the Pole-star burned,
    Where stood her shrine by every hearth;
           “Back to the North I will repair,”
           The Goddess cried, “my home is there.”
           [Page 50]