Freemen, arouse ye, before it's too late;
Slavery is knocking, at every gate,
Make good the promise, your early days gave,
Boston boys! Boston boys! rescue the slave.
THE SLAVE-HOLDER'S ADDRESS TO THE NORTH STAR.
Star of the North! Thou art not bigger
Than is the diamond in my ring;
Yet, every black, star-gazing nigger
Looks at thee, as at some great thing!
Yes, gazes at thee, till the lazy
And thankless rascal is half crazy.
Some Abolitionist has told them,
That, if they take their flight toward thee,
They'll get where "massa" cannot hold them,
And therefore to the North they flee.
Fools to be led off, where they can't earn
Their living, by thy lying lantern.
We will to New England write,
And tell them not to let thee shine
(Excepting of a cloudy night)
Anywhere south of Dixon's line;
If beyond that thou shine an inch,
We'll have thee up before Judge Lynch.
And when, thou Abolition star,
Who preachest Freedom in all weathers,
Thou hast got on thy coat of tar,
And over that, a cloak of feathers,
Thou art "fixed" none will deny,
If there's a fixed star in the sky.
SONG OF THE COFFLE GANG.
This song is said to be sung by Slaves, as they are chained in gangs, when parting from friends for the far off South—children taken from parents, husbands from wives, and brothers from sisters.
See these poor souls from Africa,
Transported to America:
We are stolen, and sold to Georgia, will you go along with me?
We are stolen and sold to Georgia, go sound the jubilee.
See wives and husbands sold apart,
The children's screams!—it breaks my heart;
There's a better day a coming, will you go along with me?
There's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee.