430 THE HILL < F FREEDOM. 



She now stretches her arm with glad tidings for all 

 Who on her may choose for assistance to call. 

 Her permanent palace an undulate Hill, 

 At whose feet gushes forth, in sweet warble, the rill ; 

 On whose top looking round you all nations behold — 

 Their valleys of verdure — their rivers of gold. 

 That ocean of isles looking far to the west, 

 Hath nature with plenty abundantly bless'd. 

 There the swart Sons of Africa labour and sigh ; 

 And oft, too, for Freedom, are willing to die. 



On that Hill top, in vision, enraptur'd I saw, 

 Fair Freedom unfetter'd by Custom or Law ; 

 Her form the most graceful — step airy and light ; 

 And her robes gave to splendour intensity bright ; 

 Her countenance shone ; and her look was benign ; — 

 Her contour and movement bespake her divine. 

 Beside her walk'd Knowledge, like vestal sedate, 

 Nor airs of importance surround her, nor state ; 

 Her language was simple, yet touching the grand, 

 And such as the simplest could well understand;' — 

 No sentence involv'd, nor terms learned, abtruse, — 

 Nor pride to exhibit what is of no use. 

 She, the punning of pedants — the play upon names — 

 With the lumber of learning, consigns to the flames. 

 To Teach, her sole object, the Useful and True ; — 

 By the aid of enquiry examines the new : 

 To Progression pays homage, and, as the Time flies, 

 Collects from his passage the words of the wise. 

 Content, too, awaited in Freedom's fair train ; 

 And Happiness smil'd, in robes homely and plain. 



