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From this low-lying valley; Oh, how sweet
And cool and calm and great is life, I ween,
There on yon mountain-throne—that sun-gold crest!
From this uplifted, mighty mountain-seat:
How bright and still and warm and soft and green
Seems yon low lily-vale of peace and rest!
This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on January 17, 2021, by the Academy of American Poets.
We've kept the faith. Our souls’ high dreams
Untouched by bondage and its rod,
Burn on! and on! and on! It seems
We shall have FRIENDS—while God is God!
Bowed beneath the dead'ning weight of Woe,
Crawling 'neath the galling yoke of Owe:
Obligation's hand
Beats him with his wand,
And his restless bed his burden knows!
'Neath stern Justice's ever grinding heels,
In Debt's prison now he sadly kneels;
Fettered with Due's claim,
In Memory of Frederick Douglass
In mem’ry of your truly noble life;
In mem’ry of the cause for which you fought;
In mem’ry of your fierce and bitter strife;
In mem’ry of the lasting good you wrought;
In mem’ry of the talents, really great,
That found a home within your massive brains