of a cloudy night)
Anywhere south of Dixon's line;
If beyond that thou shine an inch,
We'll have thee up before Judge Lynch.

And when, thou Abolition star,
Who preachest Freedom in all weathers,
Thou hast got on thy coat of tar,
And over that, a cloak of feathers,
Thou art "fixed" none will deny,
If there's a fixed star in the sky.

SONG OF THE COFFLE GANG.

This song is said to be sung by Slaves, as they are chained in gangs,
when parting from friends for the far off South--children taken from
parents, husbands from wives, and brothers from sisters.

See these poor souls from Africa,
Transported to America:
We are stolen, and sold to Georgia, will you go along with me?
We are stolen and sold to Georgia, go sound the jubilee.

See wives and husbands sold apart,
The children's screams!--it breaks my heart;
There's a better day a coming, will you go along with me?
There's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee.

O, gracious Lord? when shall it be,
That we poor souls shall all be free?
Lord, break them Slavery powers--will you go along with me?
Lord, break them Slavery powers, go sound the jubilee.

Dear Lord! dear Lord! when Slavery'll cease,
Then we poor souls can have our peace;
There's a better day a coming, will you go along with me?
There's a better day a coming, go sound the jubilee.

ZAZA--THE FEMALE SLAVE.

O, my country, my country!
How long I for thee,
Far over the mountain,
Far over the sea.
Where the sweet Joliba,
Kisses the shore,
Say, shall I wander
By thee never more?
Where the sweet Joliba kisses the shore,
Say, shall I wander by thee never more.

Say, O fond Zurima,
Where dost thou stay?
Say, doth another
List to thy sweet lay?
Say, doth the orange still
Bloom near our cot?
Zurima, Zurima,
Am I forgot?
O, my country, my country, how long I for thee,
Far over the mountain, far over the sea.

Under the baobab
Oft have I slept,
Fanned by sweet breezes
That over me swept.
Often in dreams
Do my weary limbs lay
'Neath the same baobab,
Far, far away.
O, my country, my country, how long I for thee,
Far over the mountain, far over the sea.

O, for the breath
Of our own waving palm,
Here, as I languish,
My spirit to calm--
O, for a draught
From our own cooling lake,
Brought by sweet mother,
My spirit to wake.
O, my country, my country, how long I for thee,
Far over the mountain, far over the sea.