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[322] How swells from those green islands, where bird and leaf and flower
Are praising in their own sweet way the dawn of freedom's hour,
The glorious resurrection song from hearts rejoicing poured,
Thanksgiving for the priceless gift,—man's regal crown restored!

How beautiful through all the green and tranquil summer land,
Uplifted, as by miracle, the solemn churches stand!
The grass is trodden from the paths where waiting freemen throng,
Athirst and fainting for the cup of life denied so long.

Oh, blessed were the feet of him whose generous errand here
Was to unloose the captive's chain and dry the mourner's tear;
To lift again the fallen ones a brother's robber hand
Had left in pain and wretchedness by the waysides of the land.

The islands of the sea rejoice; the harvest anthems rise;
The sower of the seed must own 't is marvellous in his eyes;
The old waste places are rebuilt,—the broken walls restored,—
And the wilderness is blooming like the garden of the Lord!

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