Truth Crushed To The Earth Will Rise

Here The Free Spirit Of Mankind, At Length, Throws Its Last Fetters Off; And Who Shall Place A Limit To The Giant's Unchained Strength, Or Curb His Swiftness In The Forward Race?

The Linden, In The Fervors Of July, Hums With A Louder Concert. When The Wind Sweeps The Broad Forest In Its Summer Prime, As When Some Master-hand Exulting Sweeps The Keys Of Some Great Organ, Ye Give Forth The Music Of The Woodland Depths, A Hymn Of Gladness And Of Thanks.

Thou Blossom Bright With Autumn Dew, And Colored With The Heaven's Own Blue.

Follow Thou Thy Choice.

I Shall Seethe Hour Of Death Draw Near To Me,hope, Blossoming Within My Heart. . . .