class="indent15">Like an ocean when swayed by the moon.

IV.

Again through the midnight that bell thunders out;

And banners and torches are hurried about.

A shout as of waters, a long-uttered cry!

How it leaps, how it leaps from the earth to the sky!

From the sky to the earth, from the earth to the sea,

Hear the chorus re-echoed, "The people are free!"

Original

That old bell is still seen by the patriot's eye,

And he blesses it ever when journeying by:

Long years have passed over it, and yet every soul

Must thrill in the night to its deep, solemn roll;

For it speaks in its belfry when kissed by the blast,

Like a broad blessing breathed from the lips of the Past.

Long years will roll o'er it, and yet every chime

Must unceasingly tell of an era sublime,

And more splendid, more dear than the rest of all Time.

Oh, yes! if the flame on our altars should pale,

Let its voice but be heard, and the freeman will start

To rekindle the fire, while he sees on the gale

All the stars, all the stripes of the flag of his heart.

Original