The Bondman.

87

From The Liberator.

Feebly the bondman toiled,
Sadly he wept —
Then to his wretched cot
Mournfully crept:
How doth his free-born soul
Pine 'neath his chain!
Slavery! Slavery!
Dark is thy reign.

Long ere the break of day,
Roused from repose,
Wearily toiling
Till after its close —
Praying for freedom,
He spends his last breath;
Liberty! Liberty!
Give me, or death.

When, when, oh Lord! will right
Triumph o'er wrong?
Tyrants oppress the weak,
Oh Lord! how long?
Hark! hark! a peal resounds
From shore to shore —
Tyranny! Tyranny!
Thy reign is o'er.

E'en now the morning
Gleams from the East —
Despots are feeling
Their triumph is past —
Strong hearts are answering
To freedom's loud call —
Liberty! Liberty!
Full and for all.