Wy, it's jest ez clear ez figgers, Clear ez one an' one make two, Chaps thet make black slaves o' niggers Want to make wite slaves o' you. Tell ye jest the eend I 've come to Any gump could larn by heart; Hev one glory an' one shame, Ev'y thin' thet 's done inhuman Injers all on 'em the same. 'Taint by turnin' out to hack folks Nor by lookin' down on black folks Slavery aint o' nary color, "Taint the hide thet makes it wus, All it keers fer in a feller 'S jest to make him fill its pus. Want to tackle me in, du ye? I expect you'll hev to wait ; Wen cold lead puts daylight thru ye You'll begin to kal❜late; 'Spose the crows wun't fall to pickin' All the carkiss from your bones, Coz you helped to give a lickin' To them poor half-Spanish drones? The etarnal bung wuz loose! She wants me fer home consumption, Let alone the hay 's to mow,Ef you 're arter folks o' gumption, You 've a darned long row to hoe. Take them editors thet 's crowin' Like a cockerel three months old, Don't ketch any on 'em goin', Though they be so blasted bold; Aint they a prime set o' fellers? 'Fore they think on 't they will sprout, (Like a peach thet's got the yellers,) With the meanness bustin' out. Wal, go 'long to help 'em stealin' Bigger pens to cram with slaves, Help the men thet 's ollers dealin' Insults on your fathers' graves; Help the strong to grind the feeble, Help the many agin the few, Help the men thet call your people Witewashed slaves an' peddlin' crew! Massachusetts, God forgive her, She 's akneelin' with the rest, She, thet ough' to ha' clung fer ever She thet ough' to stand so fearless Wile the wracks are round her hurled, Holdin' up a beacon peerless To the oppressed of all the world ! Haint they sold your colored seamen ? They 'd ha' done 't ez quick ez winkin' Clang the bells in every steeple, The tradoocers of our people, The enslavers o' their own; "I'll return ye good fer evil Much ez we frail mortils can, But I wun't go help the Devil Makin' man the cus o' man; Call me coward, call me traiter, Jest ez suits your mean idees, – Here I stand a tyrant-hater, An' the friend o' God an' Peace!" Ef I'd my way I hed ruther We should go to work an' part, They take one way, we take t'other, - Them thet God has noways jined; Ef there's thousands o' my mind. [The first recruiting sergeant on record I conceive to have been that individual who is mentioned in the Book of Job as going to and fro in the earth, and walking up and down in it. Bishop Latimer will have him to have been a bishop, but to me that other calling would appear more congenial. The sect of Cainites is not yet extinct, who esteemed the first-born of Adam to be the most worthy, not only because of that privilege of primogeniture, but inasmuch as he was able to overcome and slay his younger brother. That was a wise saying of the famous Marquis Pescara to the Papal Legate, that it was impossible for men to serve Mars and Christ at the same time. Yet in time past the profession |