"The prisoners heard them"

ANNE CLEVELAND CHENEY

The prisoners heard them singing,—
Oh, song above all songs!
Down through the ages ringing,
The prison doors wide flinging;
While wakened human throngs
Pass, wondering, into freedom,
Hearing that song of songs.

Foundations all are shaking,—
Oh, song above all songs!
Shackles are loosed, are breaking;
Dreamers are waking, waking;
The quickened, urging throngs,
To-day, pass into freedom,
Hearing that song of songs.