C. M.
Nicoll.
An offering at the shrine of power
Our hands shall never bring;
A garland on the car of pomp
Our hands shall never fling;
Applauding in the conqueror’s path
Our voices ne’er shall be;
But we have hearts to honor those
Who bade the world go free!
Praise to the good, the pure, the great,
Who made us what we are,—
Who lit the flame which yet shall glow
With radiance brighter far!
Glory to them in coming time,
And through eternity,
Who burst the captive’s galling chain,
And bade the world go free!
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