The Anti-Slavery Harp Part 6

THE SLAVE-HOLDER'S ADDRESS TO THE NORTH STAR.

Star of the North! Thou art not bigger Than is the diamond in my ring; Yet, every black, star-gazing n.i.g.g.e.r Looks at thee, as at some great thing!

Yes, gazes at thee, till the lazy And thankless rascal is half crazy.

Some Abolitionist has told them, That, if they take their flight toward thee, They'll get where "ma.s.sa" cannot hold them, And therefore to the North they flee.

Fools to be led off, where they can't earn Their living, by thy lying lantern.

We will to New England write, And tell them not to let thee shine (Excepting of a cloudy night) Anywhere south of Dixon's line; If beyond that thou shine an inch, We'll have thee up before Judge Lynch.

And when, thou Abolition star, Who preachest Freedom in all weathers, Thou hast got on thy coat of tar, And over that, a cloak of feathers, Thou art "fixed" none will deny, If there's a fixed star in the sky.

SONG OF THE COFFLE GANG.

This song is said to be sung by Slaves, as they are chained in gangs, when parting from friends for the far off South--children taken from parents, husbands from wives, and brothers from sisters.

See these poor souls from Africa, Transported to America: We are stolen, and sold to Georgia, will you go along with me?

We are stolen and sold to Georgia, go sound the jubilee.

See wives and husbands sold apart, The children's screams!--it breaks my heart; There's a better day a coming, will you go along with me?

There's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee.

O, gracious Lord? when shall it be, That we poor souls shall all be free?

Lord, break them Slavery powers--will you go along with me?

Lord, break them Slavery powers, go sound the jubilee.

Dear Lord! dear Lord! when Slavery'll cease, Then we poor souls can have our peace; There's a better day a coming, will you go along with me?

There's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee.

ZAZA--THE FEMALE SLAVE.

O, my country, my country!

How long I for thee, Far over the mountain, Far over the sea.

Where the sweet Joliba, Kisses the sh.o.r.e, Say, shall I wander By thee never more?

Where the sweet Joliba kisses the sh.o.r.e, Say, shall I wander by thee never more.

Say, O fond Zurima, Where dost thou stay?

Say, doth another List to thy sweet lay?

Say, doth the orange still Bloom near our cot?

Zurima, Zurima, Am I forgot?

O, my country, my country, how long I for thee, Far over the mountain, far over the sea.

Under the baobab Oft have I slept, Fanned by sweet breezes That over me swept.

Often in dreams Do my weary limbs lay 'Neath the same baobab, Far, far away.

O, my country, my country, how long I for thee, Far over the mountain, far over the sea.

O, for the breath Of our own waving palm, Here, as I languish, My spirit to calm-- O, for a draught From our own cooling lake, Brought by sweet mother, My spirit to wake.

O, my country, my country, how long I for thee, Far over the mountain, far over the sea.

YE HERALDS OF FREEDOM.

Ye heralds of freedom, ye n.o.ble and brave, Who dare to insist on the rights of the slave, Go onward, go onward, your cause is of G.o.d, And he will soon sever the oppressor's strong rod.

The finger of slander may now at you point, That finger will soon lose the strength of its joint; And those who now plead for the rights of the slave, Will soon be acknowledged the good and the brave.

Though thrones and dominions, and kingdoms and powers, May now all oppose you, the victory is yours; The banner of Jesus will soon be unfurled, And he will give freedom and peace to the world.

Go under his standard and fight by his side, O'er mountains and billows you'll then safely ride; His gracious protection will be to you given, And bright crowns of glory he'll give you in heaven.

WE'RE COMING! WE'RE COMING.

AIR--Kinloch of Kinloch.

We're coming, we're coming, the fearless and free, Like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea!

True sons of brave sires who battled of yore, When England's proud lion ran wild on our sh.o.r.e!

We're coming, we're coming, from mountain and glen, With hearts to do battle for freedom again; Oppression is trembling as trembled before The slavery which fled from our fathers of yore.

We're coming, we're coming, with banners unfurled, Our motto is FREEDOM, our country the world; Our watchword is LIBERTY--tyrants beware!

For the liberty army will bring you despair!

We're coming, we're coming, we'll come from afar, Our standard we'll nail to humanity's car; With shoutings we'll raise it, in triumph to wave, A trophy of conquest, or shroud for the brave.

Then arouse ye, brave hearts, to the rescue come on!

The man-stealing army we'll surely put down; They are crushing their millions, but soon they must yield, For _freemen_ have _risen_ and taken the field.

Then arouse ye! arouse ye! the fearless and free, Like the winds of the desert, the waves of the sea; Let the north, west, and east, to the sea-beaten sh.o.r.e, _Resound_ with a _liberty triumph_ once more.

ON TO VICTORY.

AIR--Scots wha hae.

Children of the glorious dead, Who for freedom fought and bled, With her banner o'er you spread, On to victory.

Not for stern ambition's prize, Do our hopes and wishes rise; Lo, our leader from the skies, Bids us do or die.