Consolation for the Slave.

Slave though thou art to unfeeling power, Till wrong shall reach her final hour, Mourn not as one on whom the day Will never shed a healing ray. The star of hope, that leads the dawn, Appears, and night will soon be gone. Long has thy night of sorrow been, Without a star to cheer the scene. Nay; there was One that watched and wept, When thou didst think all mercy slept; That eye, which beams with love divine, Where all celestial glories shine. Justice will soon the sceptre take; The scourge shall fall, the tyrant quake. Hark! 'tis the voice of One from heaven; The word, the high command is given, "Break every yoke, loose every chain, To usher in the Saviour's reign."