Wal, go 'long to help 'em stealin' Bigger pens to cram with slaves, Help the men thet's ollers dealin' Insults on your fathers' graves; Help the strong to grind the feeble, Help the many agin the few, Help the men thet call your people Witewashed slaves an' peddlin' crew! 120 Massachusetts, God forgive her, She's akneelin' with the rest, She, thet ough' to ha' clung ferever In her grand old eagle-nest; She thet ough' to stand so fearless W'ile the wracks are round her hurled, Holdin' up a beacon peerless To the oppressed of all the world! Ha'n't they sold your colored seamen? Ha'n't they made your env'ys w'iz? 130 _Wut_'ll make ye act like freemen? _Wut_'ll git your dander riz? Come, I'll tell ye wut I'm thinkin' Is our dooty in this fix. They'd ha' done 't ez quick ez winkin' In the days o' seventy-six. Clang the bells in every steeple, Call all true men to disown The tradoocers of our people, The enslavers o' their own; 140 Let our dear old Bay State proudly Put the trumpet to her mouth, Let her ring this messidge loudly In the ears of all the South:-- 'I'll return ye good fer evil Much ez we frail mortils can, But I wun't go help the Devil Makin' man the cuss o' man; Call me coward, call me traiter, Jest ez suits your mean idees,-- Here I stand a tyrant hater, 151 An' the friend o' God an' Peace!' Ef I'd _my_ way I hed ruther We should go to work an part, They take one way, we take t'other, Guess it wouldn't break my heart; Man hed ough' to put asunder Them thet God has noways jined; An' I shouldn't gretly wonder Ef there's thousands o' my mind. 160