Anti-Slavery War-Cry

Brothers of the serried band, 
Heart to heart and hand to hand 
Wedded, to redeem our land 
     From Oppression's bloody stain.
Kneel at Freedom's altar new
And, as at her shrine ye bow 
Take again the solemn vow, 
     Freedom's battles to maintain.

Never while a single slave,
Trampled by the robber knave, 
Murmurs from his living grave, 
     Backward shrink, or feebly fight;
Louder, to the startled sky 
Pour again the battle-cry,
‘On and onward till we die,
     For our God and for the Right!’

On oppression's bloodied crown
Shower the bolts of thunder down,—
—Awful words of old renown
     Burning with the wrath of God;
And along the midnight gloom
Pour the trumpet-blast of doom,
Until one eternal tomb
     Buries fetters, yoke, and rod.

Let the titled coward sleep, 
While fraternal bosoms leap 
Like the billows of the deep 
     In their congregated might;
When our hearts with valor burn, 
And to deeds of daring yearn, 
Who will leave us, let him turn;
     Craven allies crush the Right.

On the 'Bulwarks' of the foe
Dash, with many a lightning blow, 
Till, like Satan's overthrow,
     Nine days down, to hell they fall;
What are all the solemn lies 
That the hireling sanctifies, 
To the mountain agonies,
     Of the crushed and bleeding thrall?

Waters, from the Well of Life 
Drink, and thirst not in the strife;
Father, mother, sister, wife,—
     Turn from all if all are wrong,—
Every seeming holy tie
Which would bid us stay, or fly, 
Burst, and on to victory,
     Triumph shall not linger long.