Nor care we aught for party names,
We ask not for the spoils;

But what we'll have is Liberty!

For Freedom and Free Soil.

For Freedom, etc.

Too long we've dwelt in party strife'Tis time to pour in oil;

So here's a dose for "Uncle Sam"

Of Freedom and Free Soil.

For Freedom, etc.

Our Southern neighbors feel our power,
And gladly would recoil,

But 'tis too late" -the cry's gone forth

For Freedom and Free Soil.

For Freedom, etc.

Then let opponents do their best

Our spirits to embroil;

No feuds shall e'er divide our ranks

Till victory crowns Free Soil.

For Freedom, etc.

They've called us "sisslers" long enough

We now begin to boil,

And 'ere November shall come round,

We'll cook them up Free Soil.

For Freedom, etc.

Then let us sing God bless the free,

The noble sons of toil,

And let the shout ring all about,

Of Freedom and Free Soil.

For Freedom, etc.

THE BAY STATE HURRAH.

LINCOLN's the chief to lead the way,
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

The fire by night-the cloud by day,
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

Mailed in truth and strong in hand,
He'll bring us to the Promised Land.
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

The ship of state, with tattered sail,
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Is madly driving 'fore the gale,
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

He'll soon repair her crippled form,

And bring her safely through the storm.

Hurrah! etc.

The sable flag that o'er us waves,

Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
Shall float no longer over slaves,

Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

From Kansas' dark and bloody ground,

To California's farthest bound.

Hurrah! etc.

Free speech LINCOLN will aye defend,
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

And Slavery's curse he'll ne'er extend,
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

He goes for Freedom's holy cause,
For equal rights and equal laws.

Hurrah! etc.

Then let us all, with loud acclaim,

Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

Repeat the chorus of a name,

Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

A name at which the tyrant quails,

A name which every good man hails—
Lincoln Lincoln Lincoln ! Lincoln !
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

Then rally, Freemen, for the fight,
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
The arm of God is for the right,
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

The right he'll own and bless the hand;
That strikes for Freedom through the land.
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!

Lincoln

Lincoln ! Lincoln !

THE BOBOLINK'S CAMPAIGN SONG.

BY GEORGE W. BUNGAY.

[When the bobolink migrates to the South, he stops singing, changes his plumage, and is known as the rice-bird of Georgia and the Carolinas, and the reed-bird of Maryland.]

WHEN I am at the sunny South,

I dare not sing my mellow strains;
A song of freedom from my mouth
Would drown amid the din of chains;
So I think-on-think-on-think-on,
Until my visit there is spent.

Now Abe Lincoln--Lincoln-Lincoln
Is to be our President.

So, in the clover meadows here,
I spread with joy my happy wing,
And long before another year

In the fair South-land I can sing :
Now I'll drink-on-drink-on-drink-on

From the soft flower-cups filled with dew, Cousin Lincoln-Lincoln-Lincoln,

Here are my best respects to you.

May every man who feels and thinks
The time of triumph is at hand,
Repeat the song of bobolinks,

Now ringing through our happy land,
If long Lincoln-Lincoln-Lincoln

Fails, notwithstanding my sweet strains, I shall get, I'm "think-in"-" think-in," A coat of feathers for my pains.

I can be chief musician here;
Only a reed or rice-bird there;
I hush my notes for half the year,

And change the plumage that I wear.
In bright fields I blink-on-blink-on :
Now I am not a plumed poltroon,
I'll vote for honest cousin Lincoln,
To take the Presidential throne.

They have no bards nor bobolinks
To sing for Liberty divine

In the fair land where Slavery clinks
Her chains across the border line.
They will clink-on-clink-on-clink-on
Until the Union breaks in twain,
Unless votes for Lincoln-Lincoln,

Fall like storms of summer rain.

THE CAUSE OF LIBERTY.

Tune-"Watchman, Tell us of the Night."

THE glorious cause is moving on,
The cause once led by Washington!
The cause that made our fathers free,
The cause of glorious Liberty!

Our ranks now swell, our votes now tell,
On Freedom's cause we love so well!
And Slavery's power, now waning fast,
In midnight shade will soon be cast..
Then labor, labor, labor still,

Each vote declares a Freeman's will;

Soon Heaven's own gift the slave's will be,
The boon of glorious Liberty.

Tell us no more of Slavery's power,
'Tis weakness when compared with ours.
'Tis Satan's power condemned to die,
Freedom is strengthened from on High.
Tyrants now quail, their courage fails;
But ours, inspired by Heaven, prevails.
Thrice armed are we in righteousness,
And this our foes themselves confess.

Then onward, onward, onward still,
See how our ranks with Freemen fill!
Soon o'er the world will all men see
Triumphant glorious Liberty.

For years have Freemen bravely stood,
And breasted persecution's flood;

With justice armed, they've kept the field,

No threats or flattery made them yield.