The light that fills thy house at morn
Thou canst not for thyself retain;
But all who with thee here are born
It bids to share an equal gain.

The wind that blows thy ship along
Her swelling sails cannot confine;
Alike to all the gales belong,
Nor canst thou claim a breath as thine.

The earth, the green out-spreading earth;
Why hast thou fenced it off from me?
Hadst thou than I a nobler birth,
Who callest thine a gift so free.

The wave, the blue encircling wave;
No chains can bind, no fetters hold!
Its thunders tell of Him who gave
What none can ever buy for gold.