Part 5 (1/2)
Whilst they the oppressors of millions could be.
They can feel for themselves, for the Pole they can feel, Towards Afric's children their hearts are like steel; They are deaf to their call, to their wrongs they are blind; In error they slumber nor seek truth to find.
Though scorn and oppression on our pathway attend, Despised and reviled, we the slave will befriend; Our Father, thy blessing! we look but to thee, Nor cease from our labors till all shall be free.
Should mobs in their fury with missiles a.s.sail, The cause it is righteous, the truth will prevail; Then heed not their clamors, though loud they proclaim That freedom shall slumber, and slavery reign.
THE FUGITIVE SLAVE TO THE CHRISTIAN.
Words by Elizur Wright, jr. Music arranged from Cracovienne.
[Music]
The fetters galled my weary soul,-- A soul that seemed but thrown away; I spurned the tyrant's base control, Resolved at last the man to play:--
Chorus.
The hounds are baying on my track; O Christian! will you send me back?
The hounds are baying on my track; O Christian! will you send me back?
I felt the stripes, the lash I saw, Red, dripping with a father's gore; And, worst of all their lawless law, The insults that my mother bore!
The hounds are baying on my track, O Christian! will you send me back?
Where human law o'errules Divine, Beneath the sheriff's hammer fell My wife and babes,--I call them mine,-- And where they suffer, who can tell?
The hounds are baying on my track, O Christian! will you send me back?
I seek a home where man is man, If such there be upon this earth, To draw my kindred, if I can, Around its free, though humble hearth.
The hounds are baying on my track, O Christian! will you send me back!
The Strength of Tyranny.
The tyrant's chains are only strong While slaves submit to wear them; And, who could bind them on the strong, Determined not to wear them?
Then clank your chains, e'en though the links Were light as fas.h.i.+on's feather: The heart which rightly feels and thinks Would cast them altogether.
The lords of earth are only great While others clothe and feed them!
But what were all their pride and state Should labor cease to heed them?
The swain is higher than a king: Before the laws of nature, The monarch were a useless thing, The swain a useless creature.
We toil, we spin, we delve the mine, Sustaining each his neighbor; And who can hold a right divine To rob us of our labor?
We rush to battle--bear our lot In every ill and danger-- And who shall make the peaceful cot To homely joy a stranger?
Perish all tyrants far and near, Beneath the chains that bind us; And perish too that servile fear Which makes the slaves they find us: One grand, one universal claim-- One peal of moral thunder-- One glorious burst in Freedom's name, And rend our bonds asunder!
THE BLIND SLAVE BOY.