True, noble words, which thrill the very soul,—
This country is for man, the human race;
Words, too, that should our policy control,
If we would not our fatherland disgrace.
This country is for all, of every name,
Reserved by Providence' all-gracious plan,
That each his proper dignity might claim,—
The right to be, and feel himself a man.
Here may the oppressed of foreign nations come,
And find, in our wide country, peace and rest;
The roving Indian reach a settled home,
In the broad prairies of the fertile West;
And here the slave, to manhood born at last,
Forget the wrongs and miseries of the past.