YOUR BROTHER IS A SLAVE.

O weep, ye friends of Freedom, weep! Shout liberty no more; Your harps to mournful measures sweep, Till slavery’s reign is o’er. O, furl your star-lit thing of light— That banner should not wave Where vainly pleading for his right, Your brother toils—a Slave! O pray, ye friends of Freedom, For those who toil in chains, Who lift their fettered hands to-day On Carolina’s plain! God is the hope of the Oppressed; His arm is strong to save; Pray, then, that freedom’s cause be blest, Your brother is a Slave! O toil, ye friends of freedom, toil! Your mission to fulfil,— That Freedom’s consecrated soil Slaves may no longer till; Ay, toil and pray from deep disgrace Your native land to save; Weep o’er the miseries of your race, Your Brother is a slave!