The Emancipation Car being an Original Composition of Anti-Slavery Ballads |
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FOURTH OF JULY IN ALABAMA. |
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 | The Emancipation Car |  |
FOURTH OF JULY IN ALABAMA.
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The following piece is the meditation and feelings of the poor Slave, as he toils and sweats over the hoe and cotton hook, while his master, neighbors, and neighbors' children are commemorating that day, which brought life to the whites and death to the poor African. Air—“America.”
O, thou unwelcome day,
Why hast thou come this way?
Why lingered not?
I watch with restless eye,
Thy moments slowly fly—
Each seems to stop and die—
And leave a “blot.”
Why hast thou come this way?
Why lingered not?
I watch with restless eye,
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Each seems to stop and die—
And leave a “blot.”
Though cannon's loudly roar,
And banners highly soar—
To me 'tis gloom.
Though “lads” and “lasses” white,
With face and spirits bright—
Hail thee with such delight,
With sword and plumes.
And banners highly soar—
To me 'tis gloom.
Though “lads” and “lasses” white,
With face and spirits bright—
Hail thee with such delight,
With sword and plumes.
I hear the loud huzzas,
Mingled with high applause,
To Washington.
The youth in every street,
Their notes of joy repeat;
While Patriots' names they greet,
For victory won.
Mingled with high applause,
To Washington.
The youth in every street,
Their notes of joy repeat;
While Patriots' names they greet,
For victory won.
Brass bands of music play
Their sweet and thrilling lay,
Which rend the skies;
Old Fathers seem to feel
New animating zeal,
While tones of thunder peal
On every side.
Their sweet and thrilling lay,
Which rend the skies;
Old Fathers seem to feel
New animating zeal,
While tones of thunder peal
On every side.
Yet we have got no song.
Where is the happy throng
Of Africa's sons?
Are we among the great
And noble of the State,
This day to celebrate?
Are we the ones?
Where is the happy throng
Of Africa's sons?
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And noble of the State,
This day to celebrate?
Are we the ones?
No! we must sing our songs
Among the Negro Gongs
That pass our doors.
How can we strike the strains,
While o'er those dismal plains,
We're bleeding, bound in chains,
“Dying by scores?
Among the Negro Gongs
That pass our doors.
How can we strike the strains,
While o'er those dismal plains,
We're bleeding, bound in chains,
“Dying by scores?
While e'er four million slaves
Remain in living graves,
Can I rejoice,
And join the jubilee
Which set the white man free,
And fetters brought to me?
'Tis not my choice.
Remain in living graves,
Can I rejoice,
And join the jubilee
Which set the white man free,
And fetters brought to me?
'Tis not my choice.
O, no! while a slave remains
Bound in infernal chains
Subject to man,
My heart shall solemn be—
There is no song for me,
'Till all mankind are free
From lash and brand.
Bound in infernal chains
Subject to man,
My heart shall solemn be—
There is no song for me,
'Till all mankind are free
From lash and brand.
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