His fetters from her soul,

The mighty hand of God shall break,

And spurn the base control.

Redeemed from dust and freed from chains,

Her sons shall lift their eyes;

From cloud-capt hills and verdant plains

Shall shouts of triumph rise.

Upon her dark, despairing brow

Shall play a smile of peace;

For God shall bend unto her woe,

And bid her sorrows cease.

'Neath sheltering vines and stately palms

Shall laughing children play,

And aged sires with joyous psalms

Shall gladden every day.

[25]

Secure by night, and blest by day,

Shall pass her happy hours;

Nor human tigers hunt for prey

Within her peaceful bowers.

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