Air—Crambambule.
Let waiting throngs now lift their voices,
As Freedom’s glorious day draws near,
While every gentle tongue rejoices,
And each bold heart is filled with cheer;
The slave has seen the Northern star,
He’ll soon be free, hurrah, hurrah!
Though many still are writhing under
The cruel whips of “chevaliers,”
Who mothers from their children sunder,
And scourge them for their helpless tears—
Their safe deliverance is not far,
The day draws nigh!—hurrah, hurrah!
Just ere the dawn the darkness deepest
Surrounds the earth as with a pall;
Dry up thy tears, O thou that weepest,
That on thy sight the rays may fall!
No doubt let now thy bosom mar;
Send up the shout—hurrah, hurrah!
Shall we distrust the God of heaven?—
He every doubt and fear will quell;
By him the captive’s chains are riven—
So let us loud the chorus swell!
Man shall be free from cruel law,—
Man shall be Man!—hurrah, hurrah!
No more again shall it be granted
To southern overseers to rule;
No more will pilgrim’s sons be taunted
With cringing low in slavery’s school.
So clear the way for Freedom’s car,
The free shall rule!—hurrah, hurrah!
Send up the shout Emancipation—
From heaven let the echoes bound—
Soon will it bless this franchised nation,
Come raise again the stirring sound!
Emancipation near and far—
Send up the shout—hurrah! hurrah!