In a wreath to adorn his fair brow;
Then our land shall repose in the glorious light
Of her fame and her liberty won!
The Genius of Freedom shall stand on her height,
And wave back the tempest of discord and night,
With the clouds that obscure our bright sun.
HOPE FOR THE SLAVE.
BY J. J. H.
Tune—“Ellen Bayne.”
Millions lie bleeding on the Southern plains,