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ALMS-ALMS for our hunters ! why will ye delay,
(In the Report of the celebrated pro-slavery meeting in Charleston, S. C., on the 4th of the 9th month, 1835, published in the Courier of that city, it is stated, “ The CLERGY of all denominations attended in a body, LENDING THEIR SANCTION TO THE PRO CEEDINGS, and adding by their presence to the impressive char acter of the scene!"]
Just God !-and these are they Who minister at thine altar, God of Right! Men who their hands with prayer and blessing lay
On Israel's Ark of light !
What! preach and kidnap men ?
Bolt hard the captive's door ?
What! servants of thy own
The tasked and plundered slave!
Pilate and Herod, friends!
Strength to the spoiler, thine ?
Paid hypocrites, who turn Judgment aside, and rob the Holy Book Of those high words of truth which search and burn
In warning and rebuke;
Feed fat, ye locusts, feed !
Ye pile your own full board.
How long, O Lord ! how long
At thy own altars pray?
Is not thy hand stretched forth Visibly in the heavens, to awe and smite ? Shall not the living God of all the earth,
And heaven above, do right?
Woe, then, to all who grind
Its bright and glorious crown!
Woe to the priesthood! woe
The searching truths of God!
Their glory and their might
Of a world's liberty.
Oh! speed the moment on When
Wrong shall cease--and Liberty, and Love, And Truth, and Right, throughout the earth be
known As in their home above.
THE CHRISTIAN SLAVE.
[IN a lala publication of L. F. TASISTRO, “Random Shots and Bouthern Breezes," is a description of a slave auction at New Orleans, at which the auctioneer recommended the woman on the stand as “A GOOD CHRISTIAN!"
A ChristiAN! going, gone!
Hath in her suffering won ?
My God! can such things be ?
Is even done to Thee ?
In that sad victim, then,
Bound, sold, and scourged again!
A Christian up for sale ! Wet with her blood your whips-'ertask her
frame, Make her life' loathsome with your wrong and
A heathen hand might deal Back on your heads the gathered wrong of years, But her low, broken prayer and nightly tears,
Ye neither heed nor feel.
Con well thy lesson o'er,
The outcast and the poor.
But wisely shut the ray
One stern command-OBEY!
So shalt thou deftly raise The market price of human flesh; and while On thee, their pampered guest, the planters smile,
Thy.church shall praise.
Grave, reverend men shall tell
Thy poor disciples sell.
Oh, shame! the Moslem thrall,
His fetters break and fall.
Cheers for the turbaned Bey
Their inmates into day:
But our poor slave in vain
And rivet on his chain.
God of all right! how long
And haughty brow of wrong?
Oh, from the fields of cane, From the low rice-swamp, from the trader's cellFrom the black slave-ship's foul and loathsome hell,
And coffle's weary chain,
Hoarse, horrible, and strong, Rises to Heaven that agonizing cry, Filling the arches of the hollow sky,
HOW LONG, O GOD, HOW LONG ?
STANZAS FOR THE TIMES.
Is this the land our fathers loved,
The freedoin which they toiled to win ?
Are these the graves they slumber in ?
And shall we crouch above these graves,
With craven soul and fettered lip ? Yoke in with marked and branded slaves,
And tremble at the driver's whip? Bend to the earth our pliant knees, And speak-but as our masters please?
Shall outraged Nature cease to feel ?
Shall Mercy's tears no longer flow?
The dungeon's gloom—the assassin's blow,
Of human skulls that shrine was made,
Round which the priests of Mexico Before their loathsome idol prayed
Is Freedom's altar fashioned so? And must we yield to Freedom's God, As offering meet, the negro's blood ?
Shall tongues be mute, when deeds are wrougnt
Which well might shame extremest hell?