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By Brown, William Wells
’Tis the star that Freedom claimeth
As her emblem pure and bright,
And we watch it as it flameth
“In the dark and troubled night:”
While we march to battle glorious,
With our weapons, Truth and Love,
Freedom, as she proves victorious,
Hails the _Banner_ Star above!
By Brown, William Wells
Is there a man that never sighed
To set the prisoner free?
Is there a man that never prized
The sweets of liberty?
Then let him, let him breathe unseen,
Or in a dungeon live;
Nor never, never know the sweets
By Brown, William Wells
Is there a heart so cold in man,
Can galling fetters crave?
Is there a wretch so truly low,
Can stoop to be a slave?
O, let him, then, in chains be bound,
In chains and bondage live;
Nor never, never know the sweets
By Brown, William Wells
Yet blessings on thy Roman-mother spirit;
Could I forget it, then,
The parting scene, and struggle not to inherit
A freeman’s birth-right once again?
O noble words! O holy love which gave
Thee strength to utter them, a poor, heart-broken slave!
By Brown, William Wells
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,
By Brown, William Wells
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,
By Brown, William Wells
When at the driver’s call,
In cold or sultry weather,
We slaves, both great and small,
Turn out to toil together,
I feel like one from whom the sun
Of hope has long departed;
And morning’s light, and weary night,
Still find me broken-hearted;
Thus, when the chilly breath
Of night is sighing round me,
Kneel I, and wish that death
In his cold chain had bound me.
By Brown, William Wells
Men! whose boast it is that ye
Come of fathers brave and free;
If there breathe on earth a slave,
Are ye truly free and brave?
Are ye not base slaves indeed,
Men unworthy to be freed,
If ye do not feel the chain,
When it works a brother’s pain?
By Brown, William Wells
They are slaves who fear to speak
For the fallen and the weak;
They are slaves, who will not choose
Hatred, scoffing, and abuse,
Rather than, in silence, shrink
From the truth they needs must think;
They are slaves, who dare not be
In the right with _two_ or _three_.
By Brown, William Wells
Come join the Abolitionists,
Ye men of riper years,
And save your wives and children dear,
From grief and bitter tears;
O that will be joyful, joyful, joyful,
O that will be joyful, when Slavery is no more,
When Slavery is no more,
’Tis then we’ll sing, and offerings bring,
By Brown, William Wells
If those who now in bondage groan,
Were white, and fair, and a’ that,
O should we not their fate bemoan,
And plead their cause, and a’ that?
For a’ that, and a’ that,
Would any say, in a’ that
This is the Man all tattered and torn,
That kissed the Maiden all forlorn,
That milked the Cow with the crumpled horn,
That tossed the Dog,
That worried the Cat,
That killed the Rat,
That ate the Malt,
That lay in the House that Jack built.
By Graves, Alfred Perceval
I invoke, on my journey arising,
The power of Christ's Birth and Baptizing,
The powers of the hours of His dread Crucifixion,
Of His Death and Abode in the Tomb,
The power of the hour of His glorious Resurrection
From out the Gehenna of gloom,
The power of the hour when to Heaven He ascended,
And the power of the hour when by Angels attended,
He returns for the Judgment of Doom!
On my perilous way
To Tara to-day,
I, Patrick, God's servant,
Invoke from above
The Cherubim's love!
Yea! I summon the...
By Graves, Alfred Perceval
I arise on my way,
With God's Strength for my stay,
God's Might to protect me,
God's Wisdom to direct me,
God's Eye to be my providence,
God's Ear to take my evidence,
God's Word my words to order,
God's Hand to be my warder,
God's Way to lie before me,
God's Shield and Buckler o'er me,
God's Host Unseen to save me,
From each ambush of the Devil,
By Graves, Alfred Perceval
All these Hierarchies and Powers
I invoke to intervene,
When the adversary lowers
On my path, with purpose keen
Of vengeance black and bloody
On my soul and my body;
I bind these Powers to come
Against druid counsel dark,
The black craft of Pagandom,
And the false heresiarch,
The spells of wicked women,
And the wizard's arts inhuman,
And every knowledge, old and fresh,
By Graves, Alfred Perceval
Male and female,
The days that are seven,
The stars of heaven,
The air and the ether,
Every book and fair letter;
Fish in waters fair-flowing,
And song and deed glowing!
Grey sand and green sward
Make your blessing's award!
And all such as with good
Have satisfied stood!
While my own mouth shall bless Thee
By Graves, Alfred Perceval
Summer's cloister be my church
Of soft leaf-searching whispers,
From whose mossed bench the nightingale
To all the vale chants vespers!
Mellow-toned, the brake amid,
My organ hid be cuckoo!
Paters, seemly hours and psalm
Bird voices calm re-echo!
Mystic masses, sweet addresses,
Blackbird, be thou offering;
Till God His Bard to Paradise
Uplift from sighs and suffering.
By Graves, Alfred Perceval
If heroic was my youth,
In truth its powers are over;
With brain dead and force sped,
Love sets at naught the lover!
The Muse from off my lips is thrust,
'Tis long since song has cheered me;
Gone is Ivor, counsellor just,
And Nest, whose grace upreared me!
Morfydd, all my world and more,
Lies low in churchyard gravel;
While beneath the burthen frore
By Graves, Alfred Perceval
My ripe grain of heart and brain
The sod sadly streweth;
Its empty chaff with mocking laugh
The wind of death pursueth!
Dig my grave! O, dig it deep
To hide my sleeping body,
So but Christ my spirit keep,
Amen! ab Gwilym's ready!
By Graves, Alfred Perceval
And His Judgment-seat is set
High on mighty Olivet,
Forthright then shall be the tale
Of the Plougher of the Vale,
If so be his tithes were given
Justly to the King of Heaven;
If he freely shared his store