Ye
may
place
the
trusty
guard,
Bolt
the
dark
and
narrow
room,
Bind
the
heavy
fetter
hard,
Till
the
links
the
flesh
consume;
Never,
never,
thus
confined,
Will
enslaved
the
prisoner
be-
There's
no
fetter
on
his
mind;
And
the
spirit
will
be
free,-
If
stern
memory's
thrilling
tone
Wake
no
terrors
in
his
heart;
In
the
visioned
future,
shown,
If
he
act
the
lofty
part.
Ye
may
bar
him
from
the
air,
And
the
light
of
heaven
forbid,-
There's
a
region
fresh
and
fair,
And
its
smile
can
ne'er
be
hid
From
the
meek
and
trusting
eyes,
Looking
upward
steadily;
And
his
thoughts
will
thus
arise,
Till
he
triumphs
with
the
free,-
If
his
soul
have
never
bowed
When
a
golden
Image
shone-
If
among
the
servile
crowd,
He
would
follow
Truth
alone.
Ye
may
deck
the
lofty
hall
With
the
wealth
of
earth
and
sea,
And,
in
splendor
over
all
Wave
the
banners
of
the
free-
Ye
may
crown
the
conqueror
there,
With
the
laurels
of
the
brave;
'Mid
the
honors
ye
prepare,
He
shall
feel
himself
a
slave,-
If
ambition
rule
his
thought,
And
the
highest
place
he
ask,
All
the
labors
he
has
wrought
Are
but
scourges
to
his
task.
Ye
may
twine
the
living
flowers
Where
the
living
fountains
glide,
And
beneath
the
rosy
bowers
Let
the
selfish
man
abide,
And
the
birds
upon
the
wing,
And
the
barks
upon
the
wave,
Shall
no
sense
of
freedom
bring;
All
is
slavery
to
the
slave!
Mammon's
close-linked
bonds
have
bound
him,
Self-imposed,
and
seldom
burst;
Though
heaven's
waters
gush
around
him,
He
would
pine
with
earth's
poor
thirst.