Thursday, August 13, 2015
The Present Crisis Comments
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When a deed is done for Freedom, through the broad earth's aching breast
Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west,
And the slave, where'er he cowers, feels the soul within him climb
To the awful verge of manhood, as the energy sublime
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COMMENTS
John Carpenter
12 March 2023
Please delete — I was not aware that Shift-Enter would cause a save
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8/2/2025 11:51:53 PM # 1.0.0
Error: Your text of this poem reads: 'Careless seems the great Avenger; history's page but record...'. The correct original text, with the correct meter and syntax (you left out a letter 's', thus also a syllable) : 'Careless seems the great Avenger; history's pageS but record...'