難道我們理應蜷伏在他們的墓穴上，
心驚肉跳、噤若寒蟬?
難道我們理應成為套上繩索烙上印記的牛馬，
皮鞭落處，顫抖瑟瑟?
難道我們理應屈膝跪在這片土地上，
主人令下，唯聲諾諾?

受辱的大自然該冰霜冷若嗎?
同情的淚水該停止奔湧嗎?
惡徒的威脅──
繩索、鐵鏈、地牢的寒光、殺手的子彈，
該使奮起的精神退縮，
置真理、國家、奴隸而不顧嗎?

頭骨構成的祭壇令人反胃心寒，
偶像周圍墨西哥教士禱告聲聲。
自由的聖壇也是如此建成？
黑人的鮮血怎能上供自由之神！

令魔鬼魂離魄散的罪孽業已犯下，
還要人們裝聾作啞嗎?
自由的人們，
還要將填膺的義憤深藏不露嗎?
富於同情的胸膛，
還要停止翻騰起伏嗎?
榮譽要流血嗎?真理要屈服嗎?
筆桿，報刊，靈魂，
難道要封凍麻木嗎?

不──
從每所魂靈出沒、
自由為她的不幸子孫痛哭的墓地；
從普利茅斯的岩石和邦克山的土丘；
從格裏斯沃爾德染血的牆垣；
從沃倫的陰魂；從蘭登的幽影，
從我們先烈的所有記憶中， 。
得到了回答。

從他們粉碎一切鐐拷枷鎖的不朽英靈中，
從我們內心深處孕育的自由朝聖精神中
從上到下，從周圍的一切一切
我們得到義憤滿襟的回答──不！

不。
在國家法律的引導下，
為一真理，為了正義，為了苦難的人們
我們要奮鬥於自由大業。
基督徒能做到，自由人會做到！
要用反對派懼怕的真理，
灌充於掩耳不聞的人們。

什麼?
難道還要袒護我們的南鄰，
而任憑婦女慘叫於他們的亂棍?
任憑我們共同的上帝偶像痛遭踐踏？
難道北方人的勇氣和刺刀，
還要在他們周圍構成鐵壁銅牆?

難道要我們明知故犯，
與他們分享和危險俱增的恥辱?
眼看自由的火光餘灰黯淡，
而不是使她在全世界燎燃？
難道要我們不論身居何處，
都受到世人譴責而歷盡磨難？
我們不是已受夠了這一切?
還要讓趾高氣揚的南鄰變本加厲?
難道他們奴隸的枷鎖，
非要在北方農人門前作響叮噹?
在我們農人的耕犁旁，
難道非要告訴他們，
該講什麼、何時講、怎樣講?

難道竟要對他們講──
說自由構置於奴隸制黑色基石上?
說自由之牢固基礎是：
傷心、鐐拷、掠奪、罪惡、冤屈?
說先輩的遺訓是空話一片，
而自由的標誌是一條鎖鏈?

自由的生命和靈魂競來自奴役──
這是謊言！這是下流！這是褻瀆！
去吧!告訴他們──
高尚的真理孕育於謬誤！
地獄陰風給天堂帶來清新！
美德由邪惡所撫養！
天國樂園由魔鬼耕耘！

南方同胞，
繼續你們的所為吧，
真理不會因此沈默。
鎖不上北方的報刊，
封不住北方的口舌。
從我們的格林山到大海，
一個聲音響徹天穹──
我們是自由的！

Is this the land our fathers loved, The freedom which they toiled to win? Is this the soil whereon they moved? Are these the graves they slumber in? Are we the sons by whom are borne The mantles which the dead have worn?

And shall ' /e crouch above these graves, With craven soul and fettered lip? Yoke in with marked and branded slaves, And tremble at the driver's whip? Bend to the earth our pliant knees, And speak but as our masters please?

Shall outraged Nature cease to feel? Shall Mercy's tears no longer flow? Shall ruffian threats of cord and steel,
The dungeon's gloom, the assassin's blow, Turn back the spirit roused to save The Truth, our Country, and the slave?

Of human skulls that shrine was made, Round which the priests of Mexico Before their loathsome idol prayed; Is Freedom's altar fashioned so? And must we yield to Freedom's God, As offering meet, the negro's blood?

Shall tongue be mute, when deeds are wrought Which will might shame extremest hell? Shall freemen lock the indignant thought?
Shall Pity』s bosom cease to swell? Shall Honor bleed?--shall Truth succumb? Shall pen, and press, and soul be dumb?

No; by each spot of haunted ground, Where Freedom weeps her children's fall; By Plymouth's rock, and Bunker's mound; By Griswold's stained and shattered wall; By Warren's ghost, by Langdon's shade; By all the memories of our dead!

By their enlarging souls, which burst The bands and fetters round them set; By the free Pilgrim spirit nursed Within our inmost bosoms, yet, By all above, around, below, Be ours the indignant answer,--No!

No; guided by our country's laws, For truth, and right, and suffering man, Be ours to strive in Freedom's cause, As Christians may, as freemen can! Still pouring on unwilling ears That truth oppression only fears.

What! shall we guard our neighbor still, While woman shrieks beneath his rod, And while he tramples down at will The image of a common God? Shall watch and ward be round him set, Of Northern nerve and bayonet?

And shall we know and share with him The danger and the growing shame? And see our Freedom's light grow dim, Which should have filled the world with flame? And, writhing, feel, where'er -we turn, A world's reproach around us burn?

Is't not enough that this is borne? And asks our haughty neighbor more? Must fetters which his slaves have worn Clank round the Yankee farmer's door? Must he be told, beside his plough, What he must speak, and when, and how?

Must he be told his freedom stands On Slavery's dark foundations strong; On breaking hearts and fettered hands, On robbery, and crime, and wrong? That all his fathers taught is vain,-- That Freedom's emblem is the chain?

Its life, its soul, from slavery drawn! False, foul, profane! Go, teach as well Of holy Truth from Falsehood born! Of Heaven refreshed by airs from Hell! Of Virtue in the arms of Vice! Of Demons planting Paradise!

Rail on, then, brethren of the South, Ye shall not hear the truth the less; No seal is on the Yankee's mouth, No fetter on the Yankee's press! From our Green Mountains to the sea, One voice shall thunder. We are free!