Flying Slave

The night is dark, and keen the air,
And the Slave is flying to be free;
His parting word is one short prayer;
O God, but give me Liberty!
Farewell-farewell;
Behind I leave the whips and chains,
Before me spreads sweet Freedom's plains.

One star shines in the heavens above,
That guides him on his lonely way;-
Star of the North-how deep his love
For thee, thou star of Liberty!
Farewell-farewell;
Behind he leaves the whips and chains,
Before him spreads sweet Freedom's plains.