dark wealth of her curls,
With a scorn in her eye which the gazer could feel,
And a glance like the sunshine that flashes on steel:

"Go back, haughty Southron! thy treasures of gold
Are dim with the blood of the hearts thou hast sold!
Thy home may be lovely, but round it I hear
The crack of the whip and the footsteps of fear!

"And the sky of thy South may be brighter than ours,
And greener thy landscapes, and fairer thy flowers;
But, dearer the blast round our mountains which raves,
Than the sweet sunny zephyr which breathes over slaves!

"Full low at thy bidding thy negroes may kneel,
With the iron of bondage on spirit and heel;
Yet know that the Yankee girl sooner would be
In fetters with them, than in freedom with thee!"

From Tait's Edinburgh Magazine.

JEFFERSON'S DAUGHTER.

"It is asserted, on the authority of an American Newspaper, that the daughter of Thomas Jefferson, late President of the United States, was sold at New Orleans for $1,000."—Morning Chronicle.

Can the blood that, at Lexington, poured o'er the plain,
  When the sons warred with tyrants their rights to uphold,
Can the tide of Niagara wipe out the stain?
  No! Jefferson's child has been bartered for gold!

Do you boast of your freedom? Peace, babblers—be still;
  Prate not of the goddess who scarce deigns to hear;
Have ye power to unbind? Are ye wanting in will?
  Must the groans of your bondman still torture the ear?

The daughter of Jefferson sold for a slave!
  The child of a freeman for dollars and francs!
The roar of applause, when your orators rave,
  Is lost in the sound of her chain, as it clanks.

Peace, then, ye blasphemers of Liberty's name!
  Though red was the blood by your forefathers spilt,
Still redder your cheeks should be mantled with shame,
  Till the spirit of freedom shall cancel the guilt.

But the brand of the slave is the tint of his skin,
  Though his heart may beat loyal and true underneath;
While the soul of the tyrant is rotten within,
  And his white the mere cloak to the blackness of death.

Are ye deaf to the plaints that each moment arise?
  Is it thus ye forget the mild precepts of Penn,—
Unheeding the clamor that "maddens the skies,"
  As ye trample the rights of your dark fellow-men?

When the incense that glows before Liberty's shrine,
  Is unmixed with the blood of the galled and oppressed,
O, then, and then only, the boast may be thine,
  That the stripes and stars wave o'er a land of the blest.

THE SLAVE-AUCTION—A FACT.

Why stands she near the auction stand,
  That girl so young and fair;
What brings her to this dismal place,
  Why stands she weeping there?

Why does she raise that bitter cry?
  Why hangs her head with shame,
As now the auctioneer's rough voice,
  So rudely calls her name?

But see! she grasps a manly hand,
  And in a voice so low,
As scarcely to be heard, she says,
  'My brother, must I go?'

A moment's pause: then midst a wail
  Of agonizing woe,
His answer falls upon the ear,
  'Yes, sister, you must go!'

'No longer can my arm defend,
  No longer can I save
My sister from the horrid fate
  That waits her as a SLAVE!'

Ah! now I know why she is there,
  She came there to be sold!
That lovely form, that noble mind,
  Must be exchanged for gold!

O God! my every heart-string cries,
  Dost thou these scenes behold
In this our boasted Christian land,
  And must the truth be told?

Blush, Christian, blush! for e'en the dark
  Untutored heathen see
Thy inconsistency, and lo!
  They scorn thy God, and thee!

GET OFF THE TRACK.

Air—Dan Tucker.

Ho! the car Emancipation
Rides majestic thro' our nation,
Bearing on its train the story,
Liberty! a nation's glory.
  Roll it along, thro' the nation,
  Freedom's car, Emancipation!

First of all the train, and greater,
Speeds the dauntless Liberator,
Onward cheered amid hosannas,
And the waving of free banners.
  Roll it along! spread your banners,
  While the people shout hosannas.

Men of various predilections,
Frightened, run in all directions;
Merchants, editors, physicians,
Lawyers, priests, and politicians.
  Get out of the way! every station!
  Clear the track of 'mancipation!

Let the ministers and churches
Leave behind sectarian lurches;
Jump on board the car of Freedom,
Ere it be too late to need them.
  Sound the alarm! Pulpits thunder!
  Ere too late you see your blunder!

Politicians gazed, astounded,
When, at first, our bell resounded;
Freight trains are coming, tell these foxes,
With our votes and ballot boxes.
  Jump for your lives! politicians,
  From your dangerous, false positions.

All true friends of Emancipation,
Haste to Freedom's railroad station;
Quick into the cars get seated,
All is ready and completed.
  Put on the steam! all are crying,
  And the liberty flags are flying.

Now again the bell is tolling,
Soon you'll see the car-wheels rolling;
Hinder not their destination,
Chartered for Emancipation.
  Wood up the fire! keep it flashing,
  While the train goes onward dashing.

Hear the mighty car-wheels humming!
Now look out! the Engine's coming!
Church and statesmen! hear the thunder!
Clear the track or you'll fall under.
  Get off the track! all are singing,
  While the Liberty bell is ringing.

On, triumphant see them bearing,
Through sectarian rubbish tearing;
The bell and whistle and the steaming,
Startle thousands from their dreaming.
  Look out for the cars while the bell rings!
  Ere the sound your funeral knell rings.

See the people run to meet us;
At the depots thousands greet us;
All take seats with exultation,
In the Car Emancipation.
  Huzza! Huzza!! Emancipation
  Soon will bless our happy nation,
    Huzza! Huzza! Huzza!!!

BE FREE, O MAN, BE FREE.

The storm-winds wildly blowing,
  The bursting billows mock,
As with their foam-crests glowing,
  They dash the sea-girt rock;
Amid the wild commotion,
  The revel of the sea,
A voice is on the ocean,
  Be free, O man, be free.

Behold the sea-brine leaping
  High in the murky air;
List to the tempest sweeping
  In chainless fury there.
What moves the mighty torrent,
  And bids it flow abroad?
Or turns the rapid current?
  What, but the voice of God?

Then,