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Hymn 2. L. M.


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1. Strike from that laborer's limbs his chain,
In the fierce sun the iron burns,
By night it fills his dreams with pain,
By day it galls him as he turns.

2. Yes! and your dreams it visits too,
When fear stands o'er your restless bed
And shakes it in your ears, till you
Tremble as at an earthquake's tread.

3. The chain, that binds you to your slave,
Binds you to him with links so strong
That you must wear it to your grave,
If, all your days, you do him wrong.

4. Then break his chain and let him go,
And, with the spirit of a man,
Earn your own bread, and you shall know
Peace that you know not now nor can.