REMEMBER THE SLAVE.

Mother! whene'er around your child

You clasp your arms in love,

And when, with grateful joy, you raise

Your eyes to God above,

Think of the negro mother, when

Her child is torn away,

Sold for a little slave,— O, then

For that poor mother pray!

Father! whene'er your happy boys

You look upon with pride,

And pray to see them when you're old,

All blooming by your side,

Think of that father's withered heart,

The father of a slave,

Who asks a pitying God to give

His little son a grave.

Brothers and sisters! who with joy

Meet round the social hearth,

And talk of home and happy days,

And laugh in careless mirth,

Remember, too, the poor young slave,

Who never felt your joy,

Who, early old, has never known

The bliss to be a boy.

Ye Christians! ministers of Him

Who came to make men free,

When, at the Almighty Maker's throne,

You bend the suppliant knee,

From the deep fountains of your soul

Then let your prayers ascend

For the poor slave, who hardly knows

That God is still his friend.

Let all who know that God is just,

That Jesus came to save,

Unite in the most holy cause

Of the forsaken slave.