can walk the streets of a free country,but they must be bound in freedoms iron fellowship. The iron shackle clasps his wrist the lock ticks as romescos turns the key it vibrates to his very heart. With a sigh he says, ours is a life of sorrow, streaming its dark way along a dangerous path. It will ebb into the bright and beautiful of heaven that heaven wherein we put our trustwhere our hopes are strengthened. O. Come the day when we shall be borne to the realms of joyjoy celestial. There no unholy shade of birthunholy only to manshall doom us the colour of our skin will