Awhile we doubted, and our fears prevailed.
The scales, so finely poised, we trembling
watched;

Our very pulse stood still, and at the heart
A dull and leaden pain of agony.

Till from the helm the mandate sounded forth,
"Break every yoke, open the prison-doors,
To every captive liberty proclaim."

Wondering we bow all reverently now,
While words of patient love rebuke our fears—
O ye of little faith! why did ye doubt!
The Planter of the ear, shall not he hear?
The mountains may remove, the hills may bow!
And like a scroll the heavens roll away!
But mine own word endureth evermore.

Ah! now from shore to shore, and from the river, To earth's utmost bounds, goes up the cry "God bless our noble helmsman ! "

B. M.

DAVIS'S

ADDRESS.

Scots wha ha'e.

EN who have your daughters sold,

ME

Men whose sons have brought you gold,

For your trade in flesh be bold!

On for chains and slavery!

Now's the day, and now's the hour,
See the front of battle lower,

See approach cursed freedom's power;
Down with all but slavery!

Who'd not be a Southern knave,
Who'd not fill a traitor's grave,
Who'd not own and lash a slave,

Yankee, let him turn and flee!

Who for hell, our rights and law,
Slavery's sword will strongly draw,
Woman-whipper, stand or fa',

Brother, let him on with me!

By oppression's woes and pains,
By our sons in servile chains,

We will drain our dearest veins,

But they shan't-they shan't be free!

Lay the vile men-freers low;

Freemen fall in every foe,

Slavery's in every blow,

Forward! let us do or die!

Roebuck hugs us to his heart!
Tories long to take our part!
Well their Clarkson's ghost may start!
Wilberforce must howl on high!

All the thrice-cursed crew who rant,
Freedom's friends no longer cant;
Cotton-cotton's all they went;

That, and up with slavery!

Oh! that millions yet may groan!
Build your State on wrongs alone;
Slavery's its corner-stone;

On! "Our Chains !" our battle-cry.

Blackheath, England.

W. C. BENNETT.

BROTHER JONATHAN AND TAXES.

I GUESS I mean to tax myself,
In every jot and tittle,

Of all I eat and drink and wear,
And all I chew and whittle;
In flour and sperrits, ale and wine,
In oils and in tobackers;

In papers, gas, salt, soap, and skins,
And meal and malt and crackers,
Yankee Doodle, etc.

The leather that we walk upon-
The upper and the under-
The electric fluid in the wires,
(Guess I can't catch the thunder ;)
Each passenger that takes the cars,
Each 'bus that runs on tamrods,
Advertisements and steamboats, too
And guns, locks, stocks, and ramrods.
Yankee Doodle, etc.

There's not a billiard-ball shall spin,
But into Guv'ment's pockets,

No draughts or pill cure human ill,
Without the Guv'ment dockets;
All carriages taxed carts shall be ;
tick for taxes;

Watches

go

And messages shall pay—both eends

Who answer and who axes.

Yankee Doodle, etc.

No banker shall shinplasters make,
No pedler cheat the farmers,
No liquor-store shall sell its drams,
No theatres its dramers;

No rider spring round the circus-ring,
No bowling-alley roll up,

But shall to Guv'ment needs help bring

The totle of the whole up.

Yankee Doodle, etc.