The Liberty Minstrel Part 16

Come and see the Works of G.o.d.

Lift up to G.o.d the shout of joy, Let all the earth its powers employ, To sound his glorious praise; Say, unto G.o.d--"How great art thou!

Thy foes before thy presence bow!

How gracious are thy ways!

"To thee all lands their homage bring, They raise the song, they shout, they sing The honors of thy name."

Come! see the wondrous works of G.o.d; How dreadful is his vengeful rod!

How wide extends his fame!

He made a highway through the sea, His people, long-enslaved, to free, And give them Canaan's land; Through endless years his reign extends, His piercing eye to earth he bends-- Ye despots! fear his hand.

O! bless our G.o.d, lift up your voice Ye people! sing aloud--rejoice-- His mighty praise declare; The Lord hath made our bondage cease, Broke off our chains, brought sure release, And turned to praise our prayer.

HARK! A VOICE FROM HEAVEN.

Words by Oliver Johnson. Music--"Zion."

[Music]

Hark! a voice from heaven proclaiming, Comfort to the mourning slave; G.o.d has heard him long complaining, And extends his arm to save; Proud oppression Soon shall find a shameful grave; Proud oppression, Soon shall find a shameful end.

See, the light of truth is breaking Full and clear on every hand; And the voice of mercy speaking, Now is heard through all the land: Firm and fearless, See the friends of freedom stand.

Lo! the nation is arousing From its slumber long and deep; And the friends of G.o.d are waking, Never, never more to sleep, While a bondman, In his chains remains to weep.

Long, too long, have we been dreaming O'er our country's sin and shame: Let us now, the time redeeming, Press the helpless captive's claim-- Till exulting, He shall cast aside his chain.

THE PLEASANT LAND WE LOVE.

Words by N.P. Willis. Air, Carrier Dove.

[Music]

Joy to the pleasant land we love, The land our fathers trod!

Joy to the land for which they won "Freedom to wors.h.i.+p G.o.d."

For peace on all its sunny hills, On every mountain broods, And sleeps by all its gus.h.i.+ng rills, And all its mighty floods.

The wife sits meekly by the hearth, Her infant child beside; The father on his n.o.ble boy Looks with a fearless pride.

The grey old man, beneath the tree, Tales of his childhood tells; And sweetly in the hush of morn Peal out the Sabbath bells.

And we ARE free--but is there not One blot upon our name?

Is our proud record written fair Upon the scroll of fame?

Our banner floateth by the sh.o.r.e, Our flag upon the sea; But when the fettered slave is loosed, We shall be truly free!

The Freed Slave.

Yet once again, once more again, My bark bounds o'er the wave; They know not, who ne'er clanked the chain, What 'tis to be a slave: To sit alone, beside the wood, And gaze upon the sky: This may, indeed, be solitude, But 'tis not slavery.

Fatigued with labor's noontide task, To sigh in vain for sleep; Or faintly smile, our griefs to mask, When 't would be joy to weep; To court the shade of leafy bower, Thirst for the freedom wave, But to obtain denied the power-- This is to be a slave!

Son of the sword! on honor's field 'Tis thine to find a grave; Yet, when from life's worst ill 'twould s.h.i.+eld, It comes not to the slave.

The lightsome to the heavy heart, The laugh changed to the sigh; To live from all we love apart-- Oh! this is slavery.

The Liberty Flag.

ALTERED FROM J.H. AIKMAN.

Fling abroad its folds to the cooling breeze, Let it float at the mast-head high; And gather around, all hearts resolved, To sustain it there or die: An emblem of peace and hope to the world, Unstained let it ever be; And say to the world, where'er it waves, Our flag is the flag of the free!

That banner proclaims to the list'ning earth, That the reign of base tyrants is o'er, The galling chain of the cruel lord, Shall enslave mankind no more: An emblem of hope to the poor and crushed, O place it where all may see; And shout with glad voice as you raise it high, Our flag is the flag of the free!

Then on high, on high let that banner wave, And lead us the foe to meet, Let it float in triumph o'er our heads, Or be our winding sheet; And never, oh, never be it furled, 'Till it wave o'er earth and sea; And all mankind shall swell the shout Our flag is the flag of the free.

MARCH TO THE BATTLEFIELD.

Parody by G.W.C. Air "Oft in the stilly night."

[Music]

March to the battlefield, The foe is now before us; Each heart is freedom's s.h.i.+eld, And heaven is smiling o'er us.

The woes and pains of slavery's chains, That bind three millions under; In proud disdain we'll burst their chain, And tear each link asunder.

Who for his country brave, Would fly from her invader?

Who his base life to save Would traitor like degrade her?

Our hallowed cause-- Our homes and laws, 'Gainst tyrant hosts sustaining, We'll win a crown of bright renown, Or die, man's rights maintaining, March to the battlefield, &c.