ey lay,
And but one fixed my heart or my eye.
Shine on, northern star, thou'rt beautiful and bright
To the slave on his journey afar;
For he speeds from his foes in the darkness of night,
Guided on by thy light, freedom's star.

On thee he depends when he threads the dark woods
Ere the bloodhounds have hunted him back;
Thou leadest him on over mountains and floods,
With thy beams shining full on his track.
Shine on, &c.

Unwelcome to him is the bright orb of day,
As it glides o'er the earth and the sea;
He seeks then to hide like a wild beast of prey,
But with hope, rests his heart upon thee.
Shine on, &c.

May never a cloud overshadow thy face,
While the slave flies before his pursuer;
Gleam steadily on to the end of his race,
Till his body and soul are secure.
Shine on, &c.

THE LIBERTY BALL.

AIR--Rosin the Bow.

Come all ye true friends of the nation,
Attend to humanity's call;
Come aid the poor slave's liberation,
And roll on the liberty ball--
And roll on the liberty ball--
Come aid the poor slave's liberation,
And roll on the liberty ball.

The Liberty hosts are advancing--
For freedom to _all_ they declare;
The down-trodden millions are sighing--
Come, break up our gloom of despair.
Come break up our gloom of despair, &c.

Ye Democrats, come to the rescue,
And aid on the liberty cause,
And millions will rise up and bless you,
With heart-cheering songs of applause,
With heart-cheering songs, &c.

Ye Whigs, forsake slavery's minions,
And boldly step into our ranks;
We care not for party opinions,
But invite all the friends of the banks,--
And invite all the friends of the banks, &c,

And when we have formed the blest union
We'll firmly march on, one and all--
We'll sing when we meet in communion,
And _roll on_ the liberty ball,
And roll on the liberty ball, dec.

EMANCIPATION HYMN OF THE WEST INDIAN NEGROES.
FOR THE FIRST OF AUGUST CELEBRATION.

Praise we the Lord! let songs resound
To earth's remotest shore!
Songs of thanksgiving, songs of praise--
For we are slaves no more.

Praise we the Lord! His power hath rent
The chains that held us long!
His voice is mighty, as of old,
And still His arm is strong.

Praise we the Lord! His wrath arose,
His arm our fetters broke;
The tyrant dropped the lash, and we
To liberty awoke!

Praise we the Lord! let holy songs
Rise from these happy is