Hark! hear the patriots cry from their graves,
“Liberty for Kansas, freedom for slaves,
Drive out the foul demons that curse your land,
And rule you like slaves with a tyrant’s hand.
“For freedom we lived, for country we died,
And may many heroes lie by our side,
Ere the tyrant wins, to curse with the slave,
‘The land of the free and home of the brave’.”
The heart cries vengeance and justice says fight,
For peace in Kansas, liberty and right,
Vengeance for our martyrs, peace by their tomb,
Where God in mercy may grant us a home.
Remember for God and freedom you fight
And never forsake liberty and right,
But stand like a rock and fight to the last,
With eyes on the future, hearts on the past.
When you meet your enemies in the field,
Go fight them bravely with no thought to yield,
But boldly cry out at ev’ry breath,
“Give us liberty, or give us death.”
THE RECONCENTRADOS.
A Spanish physician on his way from Cuba to Spain, on arriving at New York about October 1, 1898, was asked about the reconcentrados, and answered sarcastically, “There are no reconcentrados now.” This answer was understood to mean that they had all died of starvation excepting the few that were saved by the United States.
Lives there a man in the United States,
That knows of the Cubans’ horrible fates,
Whose cheeks do not burn with the blush of shame,
When he hears these reproachful words of blame—
“There are no reconcentrados now?”
Where are the parents feeble, old and gray,
Driven from their own quiet homes away?
Where are the children, are they too all dead?
Is it a fact, can it truly be said—
“There are no reconcentrados now?”