Page images
PDF
EPUB

SELECTIONS.

THE SONG OF THE KANSAS EMIGRANT.1

TUNE-"Auld Lang Syne."

[Printed in the first issue of the Herald of Freedom, one of the first Free-State papers published in Kansas, October 21st, 1854.]

We cross the prairies as of old

The Pilgrims crossed the sea,

To make the West, as they the East,
The homestead of the free.

CHORUS: The homestead of the free, my boys,
The homestead of the free;

To make the West, as they the East,
The homestead of the free.

We go to rear a wall of men
On Freedom's Southern line,

And plant beside the cotton-tree

The rugged Northern pine.

[Chorus.]

We're flowing from our native hills,

As our free rivers flow;

The blessings of our mother-land

Is on us as we go.

[Chorus.]

1 Our title, "Kansas in Literature," permits the introduction of a few famous pieces by Whittier and Lucy Larcom, which were prompted by Kansas events.

(28)

We go to plant her common schools
On distant prairie swells,

And give the Sabbaths of the wild

The music of her bells.

Upbearing, like the ark of old,

The Bible in her van,

We go to test the truth of God

Against the fraud of man.

[Chorus.]

[Chorus.]

No pause, nor rest, save where the streams

That feed the Kansas run,

Save where our pilgrim gonfalon

Shall flout the setting sun.

We'll tread the prairies as of old
Our fathers sailed the sea;

[Chorus.]

And make the West, as they the East,

The homestead of the free. [Chorus.]
-John G. Whittier.

THE BURIAL OF BARBER.1

Bear him, comrades, to his grave:
Never over one more brave

Shall the prairie-grasses weep,

In the ages yet to come,
When the millions in our room,

What we sow in tears shall reap.

1 Thomas W. Barber was murdered three miles west of Lawrence, December 11th,

1855, by James Burnes and George W. Clark, Pro-Slavery men.

Bear him up the icy hill,
With the Kansas frozen still
As his noble heart below,
And the land he came to till
With a freeman's thews and will,
And his poor hut roofed with snow!

One more look of that dead face,
Of his murder's ghastly trace!

One more kiss, O widowed one!
Lay your left hands on his brow,
Lift your right hands up and vow
That his work shall yet be done.

[ocr errors]

Frozen earth to frozen breast,
Lay your slain one down to rest;
Lay him down in hope and faith;
And above the broken sod,
Once again to Freedom's God

Pledge yourselves for life or death—

That the State whose walls ye lay,
In your blood and tears to-day,
Shall be free from bonds of shame,

And your goodly land untrod
By the feet of slavery, shod
With cursing as with flame.

Plant the buckeye on his grave,
For the hunter of the slave

In its shadows cannot rest;
And let martyr mound and tree
Be your pledge and guaranty

Of the freedom of the West. —Whittier.

A CALL TO KANSAS.1

TUNE-"Nelly Bly."

Yeomen strong, hither throng!
Nature's honest men;

We will make the wilderness
Bud and bloom again.

Bring the sickle, speed the plow,
Turn the ready soil!
Freedom is the noblest pay

For the true man's toil.

Ho, brothers! come, brothers!
Hasten all with me;

We'll sing upon the Kansas plains
A song of liberty.

Father, haste! O'er the waste
Lies a pleasant land.

There your fireside's altar-stones,
Fixed in truth, shall stand.

There your sons, brave and good,
Shall to freemen grow,
Clad in triple mail of right,
Wrong to overthrow.

Ho, brothers! come, brothers!

Hasten all with me;

We'll sing upon the Kansas plains
A song of liberty!

Mother, come! Here's a home

In the waiting West;

Bring the seeds of love and peace,

You who sow them best.

1 Written in competition for a prize of $50, offered in 1855 by the New England Emi grant Aid Company for the best song in aid of the Kansas movement. This poem took the prize.

Faithful hearts, holy prayers,
Keep from taint the air;

Soil a mother's tears have wet
Golden crops shall bear.
Come, mother! fond mother,
List, we call to thee;

We'll sing upon the Kansas plains
A song of liberty!

Brother brave, stem the wave!
Firm the prairies tread!
Up the dark Missouri flood
Be your canvas spread.
Sister true, join us too,
Where the Kansas flows;
Let the Northern lily bloom
With the Southern rose.
Brave brother! true sister!

List, we call to thee;

We'll sing upon the Kansas plains
A song of liberty!

One and all, hear our call

Echo through the land!

Aid us with a willing heart

And the strong right hand!
Feed the spark the Pilgrims struck
On old Plymouth Rock!
To the watch-fires of the free
Millions glad shall flock.

Ho, brother! come, brother!

Hasten all with me;

We'll sing upon the Kansas plains

A song of liberty!

-Lucy Larcom.

« PreviousContinue »