prisoned spirits, for the captive's wail a song;
We are coming, we are coming! and, "No league with tyrant man,"
Is emblazoned on our banner, while Jehovah leads the van!
We will vote for Birney,
We will vote for Birney,
We're for Morris and for Birney,
And for Freedom through the land!

We are coming, we are coming! but we wield no battle brand:
We are armed with truth and justice, with God's charter in our hand,
And our voice which swells for freedom--freedom now and ever more--
Shall be heard as ocean's thunder, when they burst upon the shore!
We will vote for Birney,
We will vote for Birney,
We're for Morris and for Birney,
And for Freedom through the land.

Be patient, O, be patient! ye suffering ones of earth!
Denied a glorious heritage--our common right by birth;
With fettered limbs and spirits, your battle shall be won!
O be patient--we are coming! suffer on, suffer on!
We will vote for Birney,
We will vote for Birney,
We're for Morris and for Birney,
And for Freedom through the land.

We are coming, we are coming! not as comes the tempest's wrath,
When the frown of desolation sits brooding o'er its path;
But with mercy, such as leaves his holy signet-light upon
The air in lambent beauty, when the darkened storm is gone.
We will vote for Birney,
We will vote for Birney,
We're for Morris and for Birney,
And for Freedom through the land.

O, be patient in your misery! be mute in your despair!
While your chains are grinding deeper, there's a voice upon the air!
Ye shall feel its potent echoes, ye shall hear its lovely sound,
We are coming! we are coming! bringing freedom to the bound!
We will vote for Birney,
We will vote for Birney,
We're for Morris and for Birney,
And for Freedom through the land.

NOTE.--Suggested by a song sung by George W. Clark, at a
recent convention in Rochester, N.Y.

WE ARE ALL CHILDREN OF ONE PARENT.

Words from the Youth's Cabinet. Music by L. Mason.

[Music]

Sister, thou art worn and weary,
Toiling for another's gain;
Life with thee is dark and dreary,
Filled with wretchedness and pain,
Thou must rise at dawn of light,
And thy daily task pursue,
Till the darkness of the night
Hide thy labors from thy view.

Oft, alas! thou hast to bear
Sufferings more than tongue can tell;
Thy oppressor will not spare,
But delights thy griefs to swell;
Oft thy back