Part 25 (2/2)

While your chains are grinding deeper, there's a voice upon the air!

Ye shall feel its potent echoes, ye shall hear its lovely sound, We are coming! we are coming! bringing freedom to the bound!

We will vote for Birney, We will vote for Birney, We're for Morris and for Birney, And for Freedom through the land.

NOTE.--Suggested by a song sung by George W. Clark, at a recent convention in Rochester, N.Y.

WE ARE ALL CHILDREN OF ONE PARENT.

Words from the Youth's Cabinet. Music by L. Mason.

[Music]

Sister, thou art worn and weary, Toiling for another's gain; Life with thee is dark and dreary, Filled with wretchedness and pain, Thou must rise at dawn of light, And thy daily task pursue, Till the darkness of the night Hide thy labors from thy view.

Oft, alas! thou hast to bear Sufferings more than tongue can tell; Thy oppressor will not spare, But delights thy griefs to swell; Oft thy back the scourge has felt, Then to G.o.d thou'st raised the cry That the tyrant's heart he'd melt Ere thou should'st in tortures die.

Injured sister, well we know That thy lot in life is hard; Sad thy state of toil and wo, From all blessedness debarred; While each sympathizing heart Pities thy forlorn distress; We would sweet relief impart, And delight thy soul to bless.

And what lies within our power We most cheerfully will do, That will haste the blissful hour Fraught with news of joy to you; And when comes the happy day That shall free our captive friend, When Jehovah's mighty sway Shall to slavery put an end:

Then, dear sister, we with thee Will to heaven direct our voice; Joyfully with voices free We'll in lofty strains rejoice; Gracious G.o.d! thy name we'll bless, Hallelujah evermore, Thou hast heard in righteousness, And our sister's griefs are o'er.

Manhood.

BY ROBERT BURNS.

Tune, ”Our Warrior's Hearts,” page 128.

Is there, for honest poverty, That hangs his head, and a' that; The coward-slave, we pa.s.s him by, We dare be poor, for a' that; For a' that and a' that; Our toils obscure, and a' that, The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd, for a' that.

What though on homely fare we dine, Wear hodden gray and a' that, Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine, A man's a man for a' that; The honest man tho' e'er so poor, Is king o' men for a' that; The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may, As come it will, for a' that, That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that; For a' that, and a' that, It's coming yet, for a' that, That man to man, the world all o'er Shall brothers be, for a' that.

Terms explained:-- _Gowd_--gold.

_Hodden_--homespun, or mean.

_Gree_--honor, or victory.

The Poor Voter's Song.

Air, ”Lucy Long.”

They knew that I was poor, And they thought that I was base; They thought that I'd endure To be covered with disgrace; They thought me of their tribe, Who on filthy lucre doat, So they offered me a bribe For my vote, boys! my vote!

O shame upon my betters, Who would my conscience buy!

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