That, in their spirit, dark and stern,
Ye haply may your own discover!
For, if ye claim the "pastoral right,'
To silence Freedom's voice of warn-
ing,

And from your precincts shut the light Of Freedom's day around ye dawning;

If when an earthquake voice of power, And signs in earth and heaven, are showing

That forth, in its appointed hour,

The Spirit of the Lord is going! And, with that Spirit, Freedom's light On kindred, tongue, and people breaking,

Whose slumbering millions, at the sight,

In glory and in strength are waking!

When for the sighing of the poor,

And for the needy, God hath risen, And chains are breaking, and a door Is opening for the souls in prison ! If then ye would, with puny hands, Arrest the very work of Heaven, And bind anew the evil bands Which God's right arm of power hath riven,

What marvel that, in many a mind, Those darker deeds of bigot madness Are closely with your own combined, Yet "less in anger than in sadness"? What marvel, if the people learn

To claim the right of free opinion? What marvel, if at times they spurn The ancient yoke of your dominion?

A glorious remnant linger yet,

Whose lips are wet at Freedom's
fountains,

The coming of whose welcome feet
Is beautiful upon our mountains!
Men, who the gospel tidings bring
Of Liberty and Love forever,
Whose joy is an abiding spring,

Whose peace is as a gentle river!
But ye, who scorn the thrilling tale
Of Carolina's high-souled daughters,
Which echoes here the mournful wail
Of sorrow from Edisto's waters,

71

Close while ye may the public ear, With malice vex, with slander wound them,

The pure and good shall throng to hear, And tried and manly hearts surround them.

O, ever may the power which led
Their way to such a fiery trial,
And strengthened womanhood to tread
The wine-press of such self-denial,
Be round them in an evil land,

With wisdom and with strength from
Heaven,

With Miriam's voice, and Judith's hand,

And Deborah's song, for triumph given!

And what are ye who strive with God Against the ark of his salvation, Moved by the breath of prayer abroad, With blessings for a dying nation? What, but the stubble and the hay

To perish, even as flax consuming, With all that bars his glorious way, Before the brightness of his coming? And thou, sad Angel, who so long

Hast waited for the glorious token, That Earth from all her bonds of wrong To liberty and light has broken, — Angel of Freedom! soon to thee The sounding trumpet shall be given, And over Earth's full jubilee

Shall deeper joy be felt in Heaven!

LINES,

WRITTEN FOR THE MEETING OF THE
ANTI-SLAVERY SOCIETY, AT CHAT-
HAM STREET CHAPEL, N. Y., HELD
ON THE 4TH OF THE 7TH MONTH,
1834.

O THOU, whose presence went before
Our fathers in their weary way,
As with thy chosen moved of yore
The fire by night, the cloud by day!
When from each temple of the free,

A nation's song ascends to Heaven, Most Holy Father! unto thee

May not our humble prayer be given?

But O, for those this day can bring,
As unto us, no joyful thrill, -
For those who, under Freedom's wing,
Are bound in Slavery's fetters still:

For those to whom thy living word

Of light and love is never given, — For those whose ears have never heard The promise and the hope of Heaven! For broken heart, and clouded mind, Whereon no human mercies fall, O, be thy gracious love inclined, Who, as a Father, pitiest all! And grant, O Father! that the time

Of Earth's deliverance may be near, When every land and tongue and clime

The message of thy love shall hear,When, smitten as with fire from heaven, The captive's chain shall sink in dust, And to his fettered soul be given

The glorious freedom of the just!

LINES,

WRITTEN FOR THE CELEBRATION OF THE THIRD ANNIVERSARY OF BRITISH EMANCIPATION AT THE BROAD

WAY TABERNACLE, N. Y., "FIRST OF AUGUST," 1837.

O HOLY FATHER!- just and true Are all thy works and words and ways,