rd through your generous soil,
Like a fire shall burn and spoil.

Our bleak hills shall bud and blow,
Vines our rocks shall overgrow,
Plenty in our valleys flow;--
And when vengeance clouds your skies,
Hither shall ye turn your eyes,
As the damned on Paradise!

We but ask our rocky strand,
Freedom's true and brother band,
Freedom's strong and honest hand,
Valleys by the slave untrod,
And the Pilgrim's mountain sod,
Blessed of our fathers' God!

THE CLARION OF FREEDOM.

Words from the Emancipator. Music "The Chariot."

[Music]

The clarion--the clarion of Freedom now sounds,
From the east to the west Independence resounds;
From the hills, and the streams, and the far distant skies,
Let the shout Independence from Slav'ry arise.

The army--the army have taken the field,
And the Liberty hosts never, never will yield;
By free principles strengthened, each bosom now glows,
And with ardor immortal the struggle they close.

The armor, the armor that girds every breast,
Is the hope of deliverance for millions oppressed;
O'er the tears, and the sighs, and the wrongs of the slave,
See the white flag of freedom triumphantly wave.

The conflict--the conflict will shortly be o'er,
And the demon of slavery shall rule us no more;
And the laurels of victory shall surely reward
The heroes immortal who've conquered for God.

STRIKE FOR LIBERTY.

Words from the Christian Freeman. Air, "Scots wha hae."

[Music]

Sons of Freedom's honored sires,
Light anew your beacon fires,
Fight till every foe retires
From your hallowed soil.
Sons of Pilgrim Fathers blest,
Pilgrim Mothers gone to rest,
Listen to their high behest,
Strike for Liberty.

Ministers of God to men,
Heed ye not the nation's sin?
Heaven's blessing can ye win
If ye falter now?
Men of blood now ask your vote,
O'er your heads their banners float;
Raise, Oh raise the warning note,
God and duty call!

Men of justice, bold and brave,
To the ballot-box and save
Freedom from her opening grave--
Onward! brothers, on!
Christian patriots, tried and true,
Freedom's eyes now turn to you;
Foes are many--are ye few?
Gideon's God is yours!

On to Victory.

BY REV. MRS. MARTYN.

Children of the glorious dead,
Who for freedom fought and bled,
With her banner o'er you spread,
On to victory.
Not for stern ambition's prize,
Do our hopes and wishes rise;
Lo, our leader from the skies,
Bids us do o