Solo.—I'll fight for Liberty,
I'll fight for Liberty,
I'll fight—I'll fight for Liberty.
Chorus.—In the New Jerusalem,
In the New Jerusalem,
In the New—the New Jerusalem.
I'm not afraid to die,
I'm not afraid to die,
I'm not—I'm not afraid to die.
Chorus.—In the New, &c.
I shall meet my Saviour there,
I shall meet my Saviour there,
I shall meet—shall meet my Saviour there.
Chorus.—In the New, &c.
I shall wear a starry crown,
I shall wear a starry crown,
I shall wear—I shall wear a starry crown.
Chorus.—In the New, &c.
The colored soldiers of Foster's army sang it at the battle of Honey Hill, while preparing to go into the fight. How gloriously it sounded now, sung by five hundred freedmen in the Savannah slave-mart, where some of the singers had been sold in days gone by! It was worth a trip from Boston to Savannah to hear it.
The next morning, in the same room, I saw a school of one hundred colored children assembled, taught by colored teachers, who sat on the auctioneer's platform, from which had risen voices of despair instead of accents of love, brutal cursing instead of Christian teaching. I listened to the recitations, and heard their songs of jubilee. The slave-mart transformed to a school-house! Civilization and Christianity had indeed begun their beneficent work.
Fort Sumter.