[From _The Maysville Flag_]
Ah! tyrants, forge your chains at will--
Nay! gall this flesh of mine:
Yet, thought is free, unfettered still,
And will not yield to thine!
Take, take the life that Heaven gave,
And let my heart's blood stain thy sod;
But know ye not Kentucky's brave
Will kneel to none but God!
You've quenched fair freedom's sunny light,
Her music tones have stilled,
And with a deep and darkened blight,
The trusting heart has filled!
Then do you think that I will kneel
Where such as you have trod?
Nay! point your cold and threatening steel--
I'll kneel to none but God!
As summer breezes lightly rest
Upon a quiet river,
And gently on its sleeping breast
The moonbeams softly quiver--
Sweet thoughts of home light up my brow
When goaded with the rod;
Yet, these cannot unman me now--
I'll kneel to none but God!
And tho' a sad and mournful tone
Is coldly sweeping by;
And dreams of bliss forever flown
Have dimmed with tears mine eye--
Yet, mine's a heart unyielding still--
Heap on my breast the clod;
I'll kneel to none but God!
My soaring spirit scorns thy will--