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207.

C. M.

D. H. JAQUES.

1 0 WEEP, ye friends of Freedom, weep!
Shout liberty no more;

Your harps to mournful measures sweep,
Till slavery's reign is o'er.

O, furl your star-lit thing of light-
That banner should not wave
Where, vainly pleading for his right,
Your Brother toils A SLAVE!

2 O pray, ye friends of Freedom, pray
For those who toil in chains,
Who lift their fettered hands to-day
On Carolina's plains!

God is the hope of all th' oppressed;
His arm is strong to save;

Pray, then, that freedom's cause be blest,
Your Brother is a SLAVE!

3 toil, ye friends of Freedom, toil!
Your mission to fulfil,-

That Freedom's consecrated soil,
The slaves no longer till;

Ay, toil and pray from deep disgrace
Your native land to save;

Weep o'er the miseries of your race,
Your Brother is A SLAVE!

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1 WHAT mean ye that ye bruise and bind
My people, saith the Lord,

And starve your craving brother's mind,
Who asks to hear my word?

2 What mean ye that ye make them toil,
Through long and weary years,
And shed like rain upon your soil,
Their blood and bitter tears?

3 What mean ye, that ye dare to rend
The tender mother's heart?

Brothers from sisters, friend from friend,
How dare you bid them part?

4 What mean ye, when God's bounteous hand
To you so much has given,

That from the slave who tills your land,
Ye keep both earth and heaven!

209.

P. M.

MRS. FOLLEN.

1 HEAR ye not the voice of anguish,
In our own-our native land?

Brethren, doomed in chains to languish,
Lift to heaven the fettered hand;
And despairing,

Death, to end their grief, demand.

2 Let us raise our supplication,

For the scourged, the suff'ring slaveAll whose life is desolation,

All whose hope is in the grave;

God of mercy!

From thy throne, O, hear and save.

3 Those in bonds we would remember ;
Lord, our hands with theirs are bound!
With each helpless, suff'ring member,
Let our sympathies be found;

Till our labors

Spread the smile of freedom round.

4 Even now thy word is spoken!

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Lo, the tyrant's power must cease! From the slave the chain be broken!' Captives, hail the kind release! Then in splendor

Christ shall reign, the Prince of Peace!

210.

L. M.

W. L. GARRISON.

1 THE hour of freedom! come it must-
O! hasten it in mercy, heaven!
When all who grovel in the dust
Shall stand erect, their fetters riven.

2 When glorious freedom shall be won
By every caste, complexion, clime;
When tyranny shall be o'erthrown,
And color cease to be a crime!

3 Friend of the poor, long-suffering Lord!
This guilty land from ruin save,
Let Justice sheathe her glittering sword,
And Mercy rescue from the grave.

4 And ye, who are like cattle sold,
Ignobly trodden like the earth,
And bartered constantly for gold-
Your souls debased from their high birth-

5 Bear meekly still your cruel woes,
Light follows darkness-comfort, pain;
So time shall give you sweet repose,
And sever every hateful chain.

211.

11s. & 8s.

MRS. PRICE.

West India Emancipation.

1 How brightly they lie on the ocean's deep surge, All gilded by freedom and love;

The zephyr's sweet voice has sung tyranny's dirge, And wafts their glad praises above.

2 The mother, who knelt where the briny waves And lifted her hands in despair; [beat, Now feels that the fetter is loosed from her feet,

Her loved ones released from the snare.

3 There's joy in the cabin where once there was The husband, the father is free

While blessings of Liberty sweetly o'erflow
Those beautiful Isles of the sea.

4 A halo of glory encircles them now,
A rainbow is seen in the sky;

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Fair freedom looks up with a wreath on her brow, And points to the glory on high.

5 Those slaves once degraded may now hope to The mansions prepared for the blest; [gain Away from the thoughts of their bondage and pain, With purified spirits to rest.

212.

P. M.

O. JOHNSON.

The Same.

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1 THE bondmen are free in the Isles of the main! The chains from their limbs they are flinging! They stand up as MEN-never tyrants again Their God-given rights in proud scorn shall pro

It is LIBERTY's song they are singing: [fane, Hark, loud swells their strain o'er the foaming sea, Freedom! holy freedom! freedom, our joy is in thee !'

2 That shout of the freed-men bursts sweet on our ears!

Their hymn full of joy, hear it swelling!

Their hearts throb with pleasure, their eyes fill

with tears,

As ends the hard bondage of many long years: Now exultant with pride they are telling'Free, free are we from the slave's hard yoke! Freemen, faithful freemen-freemen, our fetters have broke!'

3 Now praise to Jehovah! the might of His love At length o'er the foe is prevailing;

His truth was the weapon, and by it we strove,
In the light of his spirit sent down from above-
E'en his love and his truth never failing;

Thanks, thanks unto God! now the slave is free! Freedom! holy freedom! Father, our thanks are to thee!

4 O ye who are blest with fair Liberty's light, With courage and hope all abounding, With weapons of love be ye bold for the right; By the preaching of truth put oppression to flight; Then, your altars triumphant surrounding, Loud, loud let the anthem of joy ring out: 'Freedom! holy freedom!' let all the world hear the shout!

213.

L. M.

MRS. COLBUrn.

1 ETERNAL Father, Thou hast made
A numerous family thy care,
Nor sable hue, nor caste, nor grade,
Excludes the meanest from his share.

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