The fearful storm—­it threatens lowering,
  Which God in mercy long delays;
Slaves yet may see their masters cowering,
  While whole plantations smoke and blaze! 
  While whole plantations smoke and blaze;
And we may now prevent the ruin,
  Ere lawless force with guilty stride
  Shall scatter vengeance far and wide—­
With untold crimes their hands imbruing. 
    Have pity on the slave;
    Take courage from God’s word;
Pray on, pray on, all hearts resolved—­these captives shall be free.

With luxury and wealth surrounded,
  The southern masters proudly dare,
With thirst of gold and power unbounded,
  To mete and vend God’s light and air! 
  To mete and vend God’s light and air;
Like beasts of burden, slaves are loaded,
  Till life’s poor toilsome day is o’er;
  While they in vain for right implore;
And shall they longer still be goaded? 
    Have pity on the slave;
    Take courage from God’s word;
Toil on, toil on, all hearts resolved—­these captives shall be free.

O Liberty! can man e’er bind thee? 
  Can overseers quench thy flame? 
Can dungeons, bolts, or bars confine thee,
  Or threats thy Heaven-born spirit tame? 
  Or threats thy Heaven-born spirit tame? 
Too long the slave has groaned, bewailing
  The power these heartless tyrants wield;
  Yet free them not by sword or shield,
For with men’s hearts they’re unavailing;
    Have pity on the slave;
    Take courage from God’s word;
Toil on! toil on! all hearts resolved—­these captives shall be free!

FREEDOM’S STAR.

Air—­Silver Moon.

As I strayed from my cot at the close of the day,
  I turned my fond gaze to the sky;
I beheld all the stars as so sweetly they lay,
  And but one fixed my heart or my eye. 
Shine on, northern star, thou’rt beautiful and bright
  To the slave on his journey afar;
For he speeds from his foes in the darkness of night,
  Guided on by thy light, freedom’s star.

On thee he depends when he threads the dark woods
  Ere the bloodhounds have hunted him back;
Thou leadest him on over mountains and floods,
  With thy beams shining full on his track. 
Shine on, &c.

Unwelcome to him is the bright orb of day,
  As it glides o’er the earth and the sea;
He seeks then to hide like a wild beast of prey,
  But with hope, rests his heart upon thee. 
Shine on, &c.

May never a cloud overshadow thy face,
  While the slave flies before his pursuer;
Gleam steadily on to the end of his race,
  Till his body and soul are secure. 
Shine on, &c.

THE LIBERTY BALL.

Air—­Rosin the Bow.

Come all ye true friends of the nation,
  Attend to humanity’s call;
Come aid the poor slave’s liberation,
  And roll on the liberty ball—­
    And roll on the liberty ball—­
    Come aid the poor slave’s liberation,
    And roll on the liberty ball.