The Liberty Minstrel Part 14

OUR COUNTRYMEN ARE DYING.

Words by C.W. Dennison. Tune--"From Greenland's Icy Mountains."

[Music]

Our countrymen are dying Beneath their cankering chains, Full many a heart is sighing, Where nought but slav'ry reigns; No note of joy and gladness, No voice with freedom's lay, Fall on them in their sadness, To wipe those tears away.

Where proud Potomac dashes Along its northern strand, Where Rappahannock lashes Virginia's sparkling sand; Where Eutaw, famed in story, Flows swift to Santee's stream, There, there in grief and gory, The pining slave is seen!

And shall New England's daughters, Descendants of the free, Beside whose far-famed waters Is heard sweet minstrelsy-- Shall they, when hearts are breaking, And woman weeps in woe, Shall they, all listless waiting, No hearts of pity show.

No! let the shout for freedom Ring out a certain peal, Let sire and youthful maiden, All who have hearts to feel, Awake! and with the blessing Of Him who came to save, A holy, peaceful triumph, Shall greet the kneeling slave!

We ask not Martial Glory.

We ask not "martial glory,"

Nor "battles bravely won;"

We tell no boastful story To laud our "favorite son;"

We do not seek to gather From glory's field of blood, The laurels of the warrior, Steeped in the crimson flood--

But we can boast that Birney Holds not the tyrant's rod, Nor binds in chains and fetters, The image of his G.o.d; No va.s.sal, at his bidding, Is doomed the lash to feel; No menial crouches near him, No Charley's[3] at his heel.

His heart is free from murder, His hand without its stain; His head and heart united, To loose the bondman's chain: His deeds of n.o.ble daring, Shall make the tyrant cower; Oppression flees before him, With all its boasted power.

Soon shall the voice of freedom, O'er earth its echoes roll-- And earth's rejoicing millions Be free, from pole to pole.

Then rally round your leader, Ye friends of liberty; And let the shout for Birney, Ring out o'er land and sea.

[Footnote 3: Clay's body servant.]

COME, JOIN THE ABOLITIONISTS.

Air--"When I can read my t.i.tle clear."

[Music]

Come, join the Abolitionists, Ye young men bold and strong, And with a warm and cheerful zeal, Come, help the cause along: Come help the cause along, Come help the cause along; And with a warm and cheerful zeal, Come, help the cause along.

Oh that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, Oh that will be joyful, When Slav'ry is no more, When Slav'ry is no more, When Slav'ry is no more: 'Tis then we'll sing, and off'rings bring, When Slav'ry is no more.

Come, join the Abolitionists, Ye men of riper years, And save your wives and children dear, From grief and bitter tears: From grief and bitter tears, From grief and bitter tears; And save your wives and children dear, From grief and bitter tears.

Oh that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, Oh that will be joyful, When Slav'ry is no more, When Slav'ry is no more, When Slav'ry is no more: 'Tis then we'll sing, and off'rings bring, When Slav'ry is no more.

Come join the Abolitionists, Ye dames and maidens fair; And breathe around us in our path, Affection's hallowed air.

O that will be joyful, joyful, joyful, O that will be joyful, When woman cheers us on, When woman cheers us on, When woman cheers us on, To conquests not yet won; 'Tis then we'll sing, and offerings bring, When woman cheers us on.

Come, join the Abolitionists, Ye sons and daughters all; Of this our own America, Come at the friendly call.

O that will be joyful, joyful, O that will be joyful, When all shall proudly say, This, this is Freedom's day, Oppression flee away!

'Tis then we'll sing and offerings bring, When Freedom wins the day.

WE ARE COME, ALL COME.

By G.W.C.

[Music]

We are come, all come, with the crowded throng, To join our notes in a plaintive song; For the bond man sighs, and the scalding tear Runs down his cheek while we mingle here.

We are come, all come, with a hallowed vow, At the shrine of slavery never to bow, For the despot's reign o'er hill and plain, Spreads grief and woe in his horrid train.

We are come, all come, a determined band, To rescue the slave from the tyrant's hand; And our prayers shall ascend with our songs to Him Who sits in the midst of the cherubim.

We are come, all come, in the strength of youth, In the light of hope and the power of truth; And we joy to see in our ranks to-day, The honored locks of the good and grey.

We are come, all come, in our holy might, And freedom's foes shall be put to flight; Oh G.o.d! with favoring smiles from thee, Our songs shall soon chant the victory.

THE LAW OF LOVE.

Words by a Lady. Music by G.W.C.

[Music]

Blest is the man whose tender heart Feels all another's pain, To whom the supplicating eye Was never raised in vain, Was never raised in vain.

Whose breast expands with generous warmth, A stranger's woe to feel, And bleeds in pity o'er the wound, He wants the power to heal, He wants the power to heal.

He spreads his kind supporting arms, To every child of grief; His secret bounty largely flows, And brings unasked relief.

To gentle offices of love His feet are never slow; He views, through mercy's melting eye, A brother in his foe.

To him protection shall be shown, And mercy from above Descend on those, who thus fulfil The perfect law of love.