morning,
  Now, now, on me will pour,
Hope, hope, on me is dawning,
  I'm not a slave any more!
    No, no—oh, no,
I'm a FREE MAN evermore!

A SONG FOR FREEDOM.

AIR—Dandy Jim.

Come all ye bondmen far and near,
Let's put a song in massa's ear,
It is a song for our poor race,
Who're whipped and trampled with disgrace.

Chorus.
My old massa tells me O
This is a land of freedom O;
Let's look about and see if't is so,
Just as massa tells me O.

He tells us of that glorious one,
I think his name was Washington,
How he did fight for liberty,
To save a threepence tax on tea.

Chorus.
My old massa, &c.

And then he tells us that there was
A Constitution, with this clause,
That all men equal were created,
How often have we heard it stated.

Chorus.
My old massa, &c.

But now we look about and see,
That we poor blacks are not so free;
We 're whipped and thrashed about like fools,
And have no chance at common schools.

Chorus.
Still, my old massa, &c.

They take our wives, insult and mock,
And sell our children on the block,
Then choke us if we say a word,
And say that "niggers" shan't be heard.

Chorus.
Still, my old massa, &c.

Our preachers, too, with whip and cord,
Command obedience in the Lord;
They say they learn it from the book,
But for ourselves we dare not look.

Chorus.
Still, my old massa tells me O,
This is a Christian country O, &c.

There is a country far away,
Friend Hopper says 't is Canada,
And if we reach Victoria's shore,
He says that we are slaves no more.

Chorus.
Now hasten all bondmen, let us go
And leave this Christian country O;
Haste to the land of the British Queen,
Where whips for negroes are not seen.

Now if we go, we must take the night—
We're sure to die if we come in sight—
The blood-hounds will be on our track,
And wo to us if they fetch us back.

Chorus.
Now haste all bondmen, let us go,
And leave this Christian country O;
God help us to Victoria's shore,
Where we are free and slaves no more.

FREEDOM'S BANNER.

AIR—Freedom's Banner.

My country, shall thy honored name,
  Be as a by-word through the world?
Rouse! for as if to blast thy fame,
  This keen reproach is at thee hurled;
The banner that above thee waves,
  Is floating over three millions slaves.

That flag, my country, I had thought,
  From noble sires was given to thee,
By the best blood of patriots bought,
  To wave alone above the Free!
Yet now, while to the breeze it waves,
  It floats above three millions slaves,

The mighty dead that flag unrolled,
  They bathed it in the heaven's own blue;
They sprinkled stars upon each fold,
  And gave it as a trust to you;
And now that glorious banner waves
  In shame above three millions slaves.

O, by the virtues of our sires,
  And by the soil on which they trod,
And by the trust their name inspires,
  And by the hope we have in God,
Arouse, my country, and agree
  To set thy captive children free.

Arouse! and let each hill and glen
  With prayer to the high heavens ring out,
Till all our land with freeborn men,
  May join in one triumphant shout,
That freedom's banner does not wave
  Its folds above a single slave.

YOUR BROTHER IS A SLAVE.

O weep, ye friends of Freedom, weep!
  Shout liberty no more;
Your harps to mournful measures sweep,
  Till slavery's reign is o'er.
O, furl your star-lit thing of light—
  That banner should not wave
Where, vainly pleading for his right,
  Your Brother toils—a Slave!

O pray, ye friends of Freedom, pray
  For those who toil in chains,
Who lift their fettered hands to day
  On Carolina's plain!
God is the hope of the Oppressed;
  His arm is strong to save;
Pray, then, that freedom's cause be blest,
  Your Brother is a Slave!

O toil, ye friends of Freedom, toil!
  Your mission to fulfil,—
That Freedom's consecrated soil
  Slaves may no longer till;
Ay, toil and pray from deep disgrace
  Your native land to save;
Weep o'er the miseries of your race,
  Your Brother is a Slave!