Here you will find the Poem President Lincoln's Proclamation Of Freedom of poet Frances Ellen Watkins
IT shall flash through coming ages; It shall light the distant years; And eyes now dim with sorrow Shall be clearer through their tears. It shall flush the mountain ranges; And the valleys shall grow bright; It shall bathe the hills in radiance, And crown their brows with light. It shall flood with golden splendor All the huts of Caroline, And the sun-kissed brow of labor With lustre new shall shine. It shall gild the gloomy prison, Darken'd by the nation's crime, Where the dumb and patient millions Wait the better coming time. By the light that gilds their prison, They shall seize its mould'ring key, And the bolts and bars shall vibrate With the triumphs of the free. Like the dim and ancient chaos, Shrinking from the dawn of light, Oppression, grim and hoary, Shall cower at the sight. And her spawn of lies and malice Shall grovel in the dust, While joy shall thrill the bosoms Of the merciful and just. Though the morning seemed to linger O'er the hill-tops far away, Now the shadows bear the promise Of the quickly coming day. Soon the mists and murky shadows Shall be fringed with crimson light, And the glorious dawn of freedom Break refulgent on the sight.
