And when we have formed the blest union We'll firmly march on, one and all-- We'll sing when we meet in communion, And _roll on_ the liberty ball, And roll on the liberty ball, dec. EMANCIPATION HYMN OF THE WEST INDIAN NEGROES. FOR THE FIRST OF AUGUST CELEBRATION. Praise we the Lord! let songs resound To earth's remotest shore! Songs of thanksgiving, songs of praise-- For we are slaves no more. Praise we the Lord! His power hath rent The chains that held us long! His voice is mighty, as of old, And still His arm is strong. Praise we the Lord! His wrath arose, His arm our fetters broke; The tyrant dropped the lash, and we To liberty awoke! Praise we the Lord! let holy songs Rise from these happy isles!-- O! let us not unworthy prove, On whom His bounty smiles. And cease we not the fight of faith Till all mankind be free; Till mercy o'er the earth shall flow, As waters o'er the sea. Then shall indeed Messiah's reign Through all the world extend; Then swords to ploughshares shall be turned, And Heaven with earth shall blend. OVER THE MOUNTAIN. Over the mountain, and over the moor, Hungry and weary I wander forlorn; My father is dead, and my mother is poor, And she grieves for the days that will never return; Give me some food for my mother in charity; Give me some food and then I will be gone. Pity, kind gentlemen, friends of humanity, Cold blows the wind and the night's coming on. Call me not indolent beggar and bold enough, Fain would I learn both to knit and to sew; I've two little brothers at home, when they're old enough, They will work hard for the gifts you bestow; Pity, kind gentlemen, friends of humanity. Cold blows the wind, and the night's coming on; Give me some food for my mother in charity, Give me some food, and then I will begone. JUBILEE SONG. Air--Away the Bowl. Our grateful hearts with joy o'erflow, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, We hail the Despot's overthrow, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, No more he'll raise the gory lash, And sink it deep in human flesh, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra Hurra, Hurra, Hurra. We raise the song in Freedom's name, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Her glorious triumph we proclaim, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Beneath her feet lie Slavery's chains, Their power to curse no more remains, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra. With joy we'll make the air resound, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, That all may hear the gladsome sound, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, We glory at Oppression's fall, The Slave has burst his deadly thrall, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra. In mirthful glee we'll dance and sing, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, With shouts we'll make the welkin ring, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Shout! shout aloud! the bondsman's free! This, this is Freedom's jubilee! Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra, Hurra. SPIRIT OF FREEMEN, WAKE. AIR--America.