Heard ye that cry! Twas the wail of a slave, As he sank in despair, to the rest of the grave; Behold him where bleeding and prostrate he lies, Unfriended he lived, and unpitied he died.
The white man oppressed him--the white man for gold, Made him toil amidst tortures that cannot be told; He robbed him, and spoiled him, of all that was dear, And made him the prey of affliction and fear.
But his anguish was seen, and his wailings were heard, By the Lord G.o.d of Hosts; whose vengeance deferred, Gathers force by delay, and with fury will burst, On his impious oppressor--the tyrant accurst!
Arouse ye, arouse ye! ye generous and brave, Plead the rights of the poor--plead the cause of the slave; Nor cease your exertions till broken shall be The fetters that bind him, and the slave shall be free.
Sleep on my Child.
BY R.J.H.
Sleep on, my child, in peaceful rest, While lovely visions round thee play; No care or grief has touched thy breast, Thy life is yet a cloudless day.
Far distant is my childhood"s home-- No mother"s smiles--no father"s care!
Oh! how I"d love again to roam, Where once my little playmates were!
Sleep on, thou hast not felt the chain; But though "tis yet unmingled joy, I may not see those smiles again, Nor clasp thee to my breast, my boy.
And must I see thee toil and bleed!
Thy manly soul in fetters tied; "Twill wring thy mother"s heart indeed-- Oh! would to G.o.d that I had died!
That soul G.o.d"s own bright image bears-- But oh! no tongue thy woes can tell; Thy lot is cast in blood and tears, And soon these lips must say--farewell!
ZAZA--THE FEMALE SLAVE.
Words by Miss Ball. Music by G.W.C.
[Music]
O my country, my country! how long I for thee, Far over the mountain, far over the sea.
Where the sweet Joliba kisses the sh.o.r.e, Say, shall I wander by thee never more?
Where the sweet Joliba kisses the sh.o.r.e, Say, shall I wander by thee never more?
O my country, my country! how long I for thee, Far over the mountain, far over the sea.
Say, O fond Zurima, Where dost thou stay?
Say, doth another List to thy sweet lay?
Say, doth the orange still Bloom near our cot?
Zurima, Zurima, Am I forgot?
O, my country, my country! how long I for thee, Far over the mountain, far over the sea.
Under the baobab Oft have I slept, Fanned by sweet breezes That over me swept.
Often in dreams Do my weary limbs lay "Neath the same baobab, Far, far away, O my country, my country, how long I for thee, Far over the mountain, far over the sea.
O for the breath Of our own waving palm, Here, as I languish, My spirit to calm-- O for a draught From our own cooling lake, Brought by sweet mother, My spirit to wake.
O my country, my country, how long I for thee, Far over the mountain, far over the sea.
PRAYER FOR THE SLAVE.
Tune--Hamburgh.
[Music]
Oh let the pris"ner"s mournful sighs As incense in thy sight appear!
Their humble wailings pierce the skies, If haply they may feel thee near.
The captive exiles make their moans, From sin impatient to be free; Call home, call home, thy banished ones!
Lead captive their captivity!
Out of the deep regard their cries, The fallen raise, the mourners cheer, Oh, Son of Righteousness, arise, And scatter all their doubts and fear.
Stand by them in the fiery hour, Their feebleness of mind defend; And in their weakness show thy power, And make them patient to the end.
Relieve the souls whose cross we bear, For whom thy suffering members mourn: Answer our faith"s effectual prayer; And break the yoke so meekly borne!
Remembering that G.o.d is just.
Oh righteous G.o.d! whose awful frown Can crumble nations to the dust, Trembling we stand before thy throne, When we reflect that thou art just.
Dost thou not see the dreadful wrong, Which Afric"s injured race sustains?
And wilt thou not arise ere long, To plead their cause, and break their chains?
Must not thine anger quickly rise Against the men whom l.u.s.t controls, Who dare thy righteous laws despise And traffic in the blood of souls?
THE FUGITIVE.
Words by L.M.C. Air "Bonny Doon."
[Music]