God gave him reverence of laws,

Yet stirring blood in Freedom's cause—
A spirit to his rocks akin,
The eye of the Hawk, and the fire therein!

To Nature and to Holy writ

Alone did God the boy commit:
Where flash'd and roar'd the torrent, oft
His soul found wings, and soar'd aloft!

The straining oar and chamois chase

Had form'd his limbs to strength and grace;
On wave and wind the boy would toss,
Was great, nor knew how great he was!

He knew not that his chosen hand,

Made strong by God, his native land
Would rescue from the shameful yoke
Of Slavery———the which he broke!