LIGHT OF TRUTH.
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.
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 slumbers, long and deep; And the church of G.o.d is 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 FLYING SLAVE.
Air--To Greece we give our shining blades.
The night is dark, and keen the air, And the Slave is flying to be free; His parting word is one short prayer; O G.o.d, but give me Liberty!
Farewell--farewell; Behind I leave the whips and chains, Before me spreads sweet Freedom"s plains.
One star shines in the heavens above, That guides him on his lonely way;-- Star of the North--how deep his love For thee, thou star of Liberty!
Farewell--farewell; Behind he leaves the whips and chains, Before him spreads sweet Freedom"s plains.