As when far off the warbled strains are heard
       &nbspThat soar on Morning's wing the vales among;
       &nbspWithin his cage the imprison'd Matin Bird
Swells the full chorus with a generous song:

He bathes no pinion in the dewy light,
       &nbspNo Father's joy, no Lover's bliss he shares,
       &nbspYet still the rising radiance cheers his sight—
His fellows' Freedom soothes the Captive's cares!

Thou, Fayette! who didst wake with startling voice
       &nbspLife's better Sun from that long wintry night,
       &nbspThus in thy Country's triumphs shalt rejoice
And mock with raptures high the Dungeon's might:

For lo! the Morning struggles into Day,
And Slavery's spectres shriek and vanish from the ray!