reedom's battle take the van;
We hail thee as an honest man.

Thy country, in her darkest hour,
When heroes bend at Mammon's shrine,
And virtue sells herself to Power,
Lights up in smiles at deeds like thine!
Then welcome to the battle's van--
We _hail_ thee as an HONEST MAN!

Thy own example leads the way
From Egypt's gloom to Canaan's light;
Thy justice is the breaking day
Of Slavery's long and guilty night;
Then welcome to the battle's van--
We hail thee as an honest man.

Thine is the eagle eye to see,
And thine a human heart to feel;
A worthy leader of the free,
We'll trust thee with a Nation's weal;
We'll trust thee in the battle's van--
We _hail_ thee as an honest man.

An _honest man_--an _honest man_--
God made thee on his noblest plan,
To do the right and brave the scorn;
To stand in Freedom's "hope forlorn;"
Then welcome to the triumph's van--
WE HAIL THEE AS OUR CHOSEN MAN!

A TRIBUTE TO DEPARTED WORTH.[5]

[Footnote 5: As sung by G.W.C. at the erection of the monument to the
memory of Myron Holley, Mount Hope, Rochester. It may be sung as a
Dirge.]

[Music]

Oh, it is not the tear at this moment shed,
When the cold turf has just been laid o'er him,
That can tell how beloved was the soul that's fled,
Or how deep in our hearts we deplore him:
'Tis the tear through many a long day wept,
Through a life by his loss all shaded,
'Tis the sad remembrance fondly kept,
When all other griefs have faded.

Oh! thus shall we mourn, and his memory's light
While it shines through our hearts will improve them;
For worth shall look fairer, and truth more bright,
When we think how he lived but to love them.
And as buried saints the grave perfume,
Where fadeless they've long been lying;--
So our hearts shall borrow a sweetening bloom
From the image he left there in dying.

THE LIBERTY VOTER'S SONG.

Words by E. Wright, jr. Air, from "Niel Gow's Farewell."

[Music]

The vote, the vote, the mighty vote,
Though once we used a humbler note,
And prayed our servants to be just,
We tell the now they must, they must.

Chorus.

The tyrant's grapple, by our vote,
We'll loosen from our brother's throat,
With Washington we here agree,
The vote's the weapon of the free.

We'll scatter not the precious power
On parties that to slavery cower;
But make it one against the wrong,
Till down it comes, a million strong.
The tyrant's grapple, &c.