O leave this barren spot to me! Spare, woodman, spare the beechen tree.

Who hath not own'd, with rapture-smitten frame, The power of grace, the magic of a name.

The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.

Truth ever lovely - since the world began, The foe of tyrants, and the friend of man.

United States, your banner wears Two emblems--one of fame; Alas! the other that it bears Reminds us of your shame. Your banner's constellation types White freedom with its stars, But what's the meaning of the stripes? They mean your negroes' scars.

Ye are brothers! ye are men! And we conquer but to save.

Triumphal arch, that fill'st the sky When storms prepare to part, I ask not proud Philosophy To teach me what thou art.