We ask not that the slave should lie,
As lies his master, at his ease,
Beneath a silken canopy,
Or in the shade of blooming trees.
We mourn not that the man should toil;
'T is nature's need--'t is God's decree;
But, let the hand that tills the soil,
Be, like the wind that fans it, free.
We ask not 'eye for eye'--that all,
Who forge the chain and ply the whip,
Should feel their torture--that the thrall
Should wield the scourge of mastership--
We only ask, O God, that they,
Who bind a brother, may relent:
But, Great Avenger, we do pray
That the wrong-doer may repent.
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