TO ENGLISHMEN.

YOU

flung your taunt across the wave;

We bore it as

became us,

Well knowing that the fettered slave'

Left friendly lips no option save

To pity or to blame us.

You scoffed our plea.

"Mere lack of will,

Not lack of power," you told us:

We showed our free-state records; still

You mocked, confounding good and ill,
Slave-haters and slaveholders.

We struck at Slavery; to the verge
Of power and means we checked it;

Lo!-presto, change! its claims you urge,

Send greetings to it o'er the surge,

And comfort and protect it.

But yesterday you scarce could shake,

In slave-abhorring rigor,

Our Northern palms, for conscience' sake:
To-day you clasp the hands that ache
With "walloping the nigger!"*

O Englishmen !-in hope and creed,
In blood and tongue our brothers!
We too are heirs of Runnymede;

And Shakespeare's fame and Cromwell's deed
Are not alone our mother's.

"Thicker than water," in one rill

Through centuries of story

*See English caricatures of America: Slaveholder and cowhide, with the motto, “Have n't I a right to wallop my nigger?"

Our Saxon blood has flowed, and still

We share with you its good and ill,
The shadow and the glory..

Joint heirs and kinfolk, leagues of wave
Nor length of years can part us:
Your right is ours to shrine and grave,
The common freehold of the brave,

The gift of saints and martyrs.

Our very sins and follies teach

Our kindred frail and human :

We carp at faults with bitter speech,
The while for one unshared by each
We have a score in common.

We bowed the heart, if not the knee,
To England's Queen, God bless her!
We praised you when your slaves went free:
We seek to unchain ours.
Will ye

Join hands with the oppressor?

And is it Christian England cheers
The bruiser, not the bruised?

And must she run, despite the tears
And prayers of eighteen hundred years,
A-muck in Slavery's crusade?

O black disgrace! O shame and loss
Too deep for tongue to phrase on!
Tear from your flag its holy cross,
And in your van of battle toss

The pirate's skull-bone blazon!

ABOLITION OF SLAVERY IN THE DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA, 1862.

HEN first I saw our banner wave

WHEN

Above the nation's council-hall,

I heard beneath its marble wall

The clanking fetters of the slave!

In the foul market-place I stood,

And saw the Christian mother sold,
And childhood with its locks of gold,
Blue-eyed and fair with Saxon blood.