The Liberty Minstrel Part 23

The Trumpet of Freedom.

HARK! hark! to the TRUMPET of FREEDOM!

Her rallying signal she blows: Come, gather around her broad banner, And battle 'gainst Liberty's foes.

Our forefathers plighted their honor, Their lives and their property, too, To maintain in defiance of Britain, Their principles, righteous and true.

We'll show to the world we are worthy The blessings our ancestors won, And finish the temple of Freedom, That HANc.o.c.k and FRANKLIN begun.

Hurra, for the old-fashioned doctrine, That men are created all free!

We ever will boldly maintain it, Nor care who the tyrant may be.

When Poland was fighting for freedom, Our voices went over the sea, To bid her G.o.d-speed in the contest-- That Poland, like us, might be free.

When down-trodden Greece had up-risen, And baffled the Mahomet crew; We rejoiced in the glorious issue, That Greece had her liberty, too.

Repeal, do we also delight in-- Three cheers for the "gem of the sea!"

And soon may the bright day be dawning, When Ireland, like us, shall be free.

Like us, who are foes to oppression; But not like America now.

With shame do we blush to confess it, Too many to slavery bow.

We're foes unto wrong and oppression, No matter which side of the sea; And ever intend to oppose them, Till all of G.o.d's image are free.

Some tell us because men are colored, They should not our sympathy share; We ask not the form or complexion-- The seal of our Maker is there!

Success to the old-fashioned doctrine, That men are created all free!

And down with the power of the despot, Wherever his strongholds may be.

We're proud of the name of a freeman, And proud of the character, too; And never will do any action, Save such as a freeman may do.

We'll finish the Temple of Freedom, And make it capacious within, That all who seek shelter may find it, Whatever the hue of their skin.

For thus the Almighty designed It, And gave to our fathers the plan; Intending that liberty's blessings, Should rest upon every man.

Then up with the cap-stone and cornice, With columns encircle its wall, Throw open its gateway, and make it A HOME AND A REFUGE FOR ALL!

BREAK EVERY YOKE.

Tune--"O no, we never mention her."

[Music]

Break every yoke, the Gospel cries, And let th' oppressed go free, Let every captive taste the joys Of peace and liberty.

Send thy good Spirit from above, And melt th' oppressor's heart, Send sweet deliv'rance to the slave, And bid his woes depart.

Lord, when shall man thy voice obey, And rend each iron chain, Oh when shall love its golden sway, O'er all the earth maintain.

With freedom's blessings crown his day-- O'erflow his heart with love, Teach him that straight and narrow way, Which leads to rest above.

THE YANKEE GIRL.

Words by Whittier. Music by G.W.C.

[Music]

She sings by her wheel at that low cottage door, Which the long evening shadow is stretching before; With a music as sweet as the music which seems Breathed softly and faint in the ear of our dreams!

How brilliant and mirthful the light of her eye, Like a star glancing out from the blue of the sky!

And lightly and freely her dark tresses play O'er a brow and a bosom as lovely as they!

Who comes in his pride to that low cottage-door-- The haughty and rich to the humble and poor?

'Tis the great Southern planter--the master who waves His whip of dominion o'er hundreds of slaves.

"Nay, Ellen--for shame! Let those Yankee fools spin, Who would pa.s.s for our slaves with a change of their skin; Let them toil as they will at the loom or the wheel, Too stupid for shame, and too vulgar to feel!

"But thou art too lovely and precious a gem To be bound to their burdens and sullied by them-- For shame, Ellen, shame!--cast thy bondage aside, And away to the South, as my blessing and pride.

"Oh, come where no winter thy footsteps can wrong, But where flowers are blossoming all the year long, Where the shade of the palm tree is over my home, And the lemon and orange are white in their bloom!

"Oh, come to my home, where my servants shall all Depart at thy bidding and come at thy call; They shall heed thee as mistress with trembling and awe, And each wish of thy heart shall be felt as a law."

Oh, could ye have seen her--that pride of our girls-- Arise and cast back the dark wealth of her curls, With a scorn in her eye which the gazer could feel, And a glance like the sunshine that flashes on steel!

"Go back, haughty Southron! thy treasures of gold Are dim with the blood of the hearts thou hast sold!

Thy home may be lovely, but round it I hear The crack of the whip and the footsteps of fear!

"And the sky of thy South may be brighter than ours, And greener thy landscapes, and fairer thy flowers; But, dearer the blast round our mountains which raves, Than the sweet summer zephyr which breathes over slaves!

"Full low at thy bidding thy negroes may kneel, With the iron of bondage on spirit and heel; Yet know that the Yankee girl sooner would be In _fetters_ with _them_, than in freedom with _thee_!"

FREEDOM'S GATHERING.

Words from the Pennsylvania Freeman. Music by G.W.C.

[Music]