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A voice has gone forth, and the land is awake!
Our freemen shall gather from ocean to lake, Our cause is as pure as the earth ever saw, And our faith we will pledge in the thrilling huzza.
Then huzza, then huzza, Truth's glittering falchion for freedom we draw.
Let them blacken our names and pursue us with ill, Our hearts shall be faithful to liberty still; Then rally! then rally! come one and come all, With harness well girded, and echo the call.
Thy hill-tops, New England, shall leap at the cry, And the prairie and far distant south shall reply; It shall roll o'er the land till the farthermost glen Gives back the glad summons again and again.
Oppression shall hear in its temple of blood, And read on its wall the handwriting of G.o.d; Niagara's torrent shall thunder it forth, It shall burn in the sentinel star of the North.
It shall blaze in the lightning, and speak in the thunder, Till Slavery's fetters are riven asunder, And freedom her rights has triumphantly won, And our country her garments of beauty put on.
Then huzza, then huzza, Truth's glittering falchion for freedom we draw.
Let them blacken our names, and pursue us with ill, We bow at thy altar, sweet liberty still!
As the breeze f'm the mountain sweeps over the river, So, changeless and free, shall our thoughts be, for ever.
Then on to the conflict for freedom and truth; Come Matron, come Maiden, come Manhood and youth, Come gather! come gather! come one and come all, And soon shall the altars of Slavery fall.
The forests shall know it, and lift up their voice, To bid the green prairies and valleys rejoice; And the "Father of Waters," join Mexico's sea, In the anthem of Nature for millions set free.
Then huzza! then huzza!
Truth's glittering falchion for freedom we draw.
Be kind to each other.
BY CHARLES SWAIN.
Be kind to each other!
The night's coming on, When friend and when brother Perchance may be gone!
Then 'midst our dejection, How sweet to have earned The blest recollection, Of kindness--returned!
When day hath departed, And memory keeps Her watch, broken-hearted, Where all she loved sleeps!
Let falsehood a.s.sail not, Nor envy disprove-- Let trifles prevail not Against those ye love!
Nor change with to-morrow, Should fortune take wing, But the deeper the sorrow, The closer still cling!
Oh! be kind to each other!
The night's coming on, When friend and when brother Perchance may be gone.
PRAISE AND PRAYER.
Words by Miss Chandler.
[Music]
Praise for slumbers of the night, For the wakening morning's light, For the board with plenty spread, Gladness o'er the spirit shed; Healthful pulse and cloudless eye, Opening on the smiling sky.
Praise! for loving hearts that still With life's bounding pulses thrill; Praise, that still our own may know-- Earthly joy and earthly woe.
Praise for every varied good, Bounteous round our pathway strew'd!
Prayer! for grateful hearts to raise Incense meet of prayer and praise!
Prayer, for spirits calm and meek, Wisdom life's best joys to seek; Strength 'midst devious paths to tread-- That through which the Saviour led.
Prayer! for those who, day by day, Weep their bitter life away; Prayer, for those who bind the chain Rudely on their throbbing vein-- That repentance deep may win Pardon for the fearful sin!
THE SLAVE'S LAMENTATION.
A Parody by Tucker. Air, "Long, long ago."
[Music]
Where are the friends that to me were so dear, Long, long ago, long, long ago!
Where are the hopes that my heart used to cheer?
Long, long ago, long, long ago!
Friends that I loved in the grave are laid low, All hope of freedom hath fled from me now.
I am degraded, for man was my foe, Long, long ago, long, long ago!
Sadly my wife bowed her beautiful head-- Long, long ago--long ago!
Oh, how I wept when I found she was dead!
Long, long ago--long ago!
She was my angel, my love and my pride-- Vainly to save her from torture I tried, Poor broken heart! She rejoiced as she died, Long, long ago--long, long ago!
Let me look back on the days of my youth-- Long, long ago--long ago!
Master withheld from me knowledge and truth-- Long, long ago--long ago!
Crushed all the hopes of my earliest day, Sent me from father and mother away-- Forbade me to read, nor allowed me to pray-- Long, long ago--long, long ago!
THE STRANGER AND HIS FRIEND.
Montgomery and Denison. Tune, "Duane Street."
[Music]
A poor wayfaring man of grief, Hath often crossed me on my way, Who sued so humbly for relief, That I could never answer nay; I had not power to ask his name, Whither he went or whence he came; Yet there was something in his eye, Which won my love, I knew not why.
Once, when my scanty meal was spread, He entered--not a word he spake-- Just perishing for want of bread, I gave him all; he blessed it, brake, And ate, but gave me part again: Mine was an angel's portion then, For while I fed with eager haste, The crust was manna to my taste.