The Anti-Slavery Harp | Page 8

ye noble and brave,
Who dare to insist on the
rights of the slave,
Go onward, go onward, your cause is of God,

And he will soon sever the oppressor's strong rod.
The finger of slander may now at you point,
That finger will soon
lose the strength of its joint;
And those who now plead for the rights
of the slave,
Will soon be acknowledged the good and the brave.
Though thrones and dominions, and kingdoms and powers,
May now
all oppose you, the victory is yours;
The banner of Jesus will soon be
unfurled,
And he will give freedom and peace to the world.
Go under his standard and fight by his side,
O'er mountains and
billows you'll then safely ride;
His gracious protection will be to you
given,
And bright crowns of glory he'll give you in heaven.
WE'RE COMING! WE'RE COMING.
AIR--Kinloch of Kinloch.
We're coming, we're coming, the fearless and free,
Like the winds of
the desert, the waves of the sea!
True sons of brave sires who battled
of yore,
When England's proud lion ran wild on our shore!
We're
coming, we're coming, from mountain and glen,
With hearts to do
battle for freedom again;
Oppression is trembling as trembled before

The slavery which fled from our fathers of yore.
We're coming, we're coming, with banners unfurled,
Our motto is

FREEDOM, our country the world;
Our watchword is
LIBERTY--tyrants beware!
For the liberty army will bring you
despair!
We're coming, we're coming, we'll come from afar,
Our
standard we'll nail to humanity's car;
With shoutings we'll raise it, in
triumph to wave,
A trophy of conquest, or shroud for the brave.
Then arouse ye, brave hearts, to the rescue come on!
The
man-stealing army we'll surely put down;
They are crushing their
millions, but soon they must yield, For freemen_ have _risen and taken
the field.
Then arouse ye! arouse ye! the fearless and free,
Like the
winds of the desert, the waves of the sea;
Let the north, west, and east,
to the sea-beaten shore,
Resound_ with a _liberty triumph once more.
ON TO VICTORY.
AIR--Scots wha hae.
Children of the glorious dead,
Who for freedom fought and bled,

With her banner o'er you spread,
On to victory.
Not for stern
ambition's prize,
Do our hopes and wishes rise;
Lo, our leader from
the skies,
Bids us do or die.
Ours is not the tented field--
We no earthly weapons wield--
Light
and love, our sword and shield,
Truth our panoply.
This is proud
oppression's hour;
Storms are round us; shall we cower?
While
beneath a despot's power
Groans the suffering slave?
While on every southern gale,
Comes the helpless captive's tale,

And the voice of woman's wail,
And of man's despair?
While our
homes and rights are dear,
Guarded still with watchful fear,
Shall
we coldly turn our ear
From the suppliant's prayer?
Never! by our Country's shame--
Never! by a Saviour's claim,
To
the men of every name,
Whom he died to save.

Onward, then, ye
fearless band--
Heart to heart, and hand to hand;
Yours shall be the

patriot's stand,
Or the martyr's grave.
THE MAN FOR ME.
AIR--The Rose that all are praising.
O, he is not the man for me,
Who buys or sells a slave,
Nor he who
will not set him free,
But sends him to his grave;
But he whose
noble heart beats warm
For all men's life and liberty;
Who loves
alike each human form,
O, that's the man for me.
He's not at all the man for me,
Who sells a man for gain,
Who
bends the pliant servile knee,
To Slavery's god of shame!
But he
whose God-like form erect
Proclaims that all alike are free
To think,
and speak, and vote, and act,
O, that's the man for me.
He sure is not the man for me
Whose spirit will succumb,
When
men endowed with Liberty
Lie bleeding, bound and dumb;
But he
whose faithful words of might
Ring through the land from shore to
sea,
For man's eternal equal right,
O, that's the man for me.
No, no, he's not the man for me
Whose voice o'er hill and plain,

Breaks forth for glorious liberty,
But binds himself, the chain!
The
mightiest of the noble band
Who prays and toils the world to free,

With head, and heart, and voice, and vote,
O, that's the man for me.
THE BONDMAN.
AIR--Troubadour.
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, O Lord! will right
Triumph o'er wrong?
Tyrants
oppress the weak,
O 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.
RIGHT ON.
AIR--Lenox.
Ho! children of the brave,
Ho! freemen of the land,
That hurl'd into
the grave
Oppression's bloody band;
Come on, come on, and joined
be we
To make the fettered bondman free.
Let coward vassals sneak
From freedom's battle still,
Poltroons that
dare not speak
But as their priests may will;
Come on, come on,
and joined be we
To make the fettered bondman free.