,
With cautious, weary step and slow,
And asked if I could feed the poor;
He begged if I had ought to give,
To help the panting fugitive.

I told him he had fled away
From his kind master, friends, and home;
That he was black--a slave astray,
And should return as he had come;
That I would to his master give
The straying villain fugitive.

He fell upon his trembling knee
And claimed he was a brother man,
That I was bound to set him free,
According to the gospel plan;
And if I would God's grace receive,
That I must help the fugitive.

He showed the stripes his master gave,
The festering wound--the sightless eye,
The common badges of the slave,
And said he would be free, or die;
And if I nothing had to give,
I should not stop the fugitive.

He owned his was a sable skin,
That which his Maker first had given;
But mine would be a darker sin,
That would exclude my soul from heaven:
And if I would God's grace receive,
I should relieve the fugitive.

I bowed and took the stranger in,
And gave him meat, and drink, and rest,
I hope that God forgave my sin,
And made me with that brother blest;
I am resolved, long as I live,
To help the panting fugitive.

AM I NOT A MAN AND BROTHER?

Words by A.C.L. Air--"Bride's Farewell."

[Music]

Am I not a man and brother?
Ought I not, then, to be free?
Sell me not one to another,
Take not thus my liberty.
Christ our Saviour, Christ our Saviour,
Died for me as well as thee.

Am I not a man and brother?
Have I not a soul to save?
Oh, do not my spirit smother,
Making me a wretched slave:
God of mercy, God of mercy,
Let me fill a freeman's grave!

Yes, thou art a man and brother,
Though thou long hast groaned a slave,
Bound with cruel cords and tether
From the cradle to the grave!
Yet the Saviour, yet the Saviour,
Bled and died all souls to save.

Yes, thou art a man and brother,
Though we long have told thee nay:
And are bound to aid each other,
All along our pilgrim way.
Come and welcome, come and welcome,
Join with us to praise and pray!

Am I not a Sister?

BY A.C.L.

Am I not a sister, say?
Shall I then be bought and sold
In the mart and by the way,
For the white man's lust and gold?
Save me then from his foul snare,
Leave me not to perish there!

Am I not a sister say,
Though I have a sable hue!
Lo! I have been dragged away,
From my friends and kindred true,
And have toiled in yonder field,