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CUBA TO COLUMBIA
by Carleton, William [1845-1912]

A voice went over the waters—
A stormy edge of the sea—
Fairest of Freedom's daughters,
Have you no help for me?
Do you not hear the rusty chain
Clanking about my feet?
Have you not seen my children slain,
Whether in cell or street?
Oh, if you were sad as I,
And I as you were strong,
You would not have to call or cry—
You would not suffer long!
"Patience?"—have I not learned it,
Under the crushing years?
Freedom—have I not earned it,
Toiling with blood and tears?
"Not of you?"—my banners wave
Not on Egyptian shore,
Or by Armenia's mammoth grave—
But at your very door!
Oh, if you were needy as I,
And I as you were strong,
You should not suffer, bleed, and die,
Under the hoofs of wrong!
Is it that you have never
Felt the oppressor's hand,
Fighting, with fond endeavor,
To cling to your own sweet land?
Were you not half dismayed,
There in the century's night,
Till to your view a sister's aid
Came, like a flash of light?
Oh, what gift could ever be grand
Enough to pay the debt,
If out of the starry Western land,
Should come my Lafayette!
Will Carleton.

Source: Project Gutenberg

Source: Project Gutenberg