This page has been proofread
, but needs to be validated
had voted for the infamous Slave Clause,—with which appeal in behalf of the oppressed I close this volume.
Californians,—See that Spirit rise
From out the raging flame,
It comes to mark your destinies
With everlasting shame.
For yon have robb'd the coloured man,
Your Brother, of his right;
And God's dark, deepest, curse and ban,
Will haunt ye day and night.
Is this a time with tyrant hand
To strike a prostrate race?
To again renew the bondman's brand,
Which free men should efface?
For shame. Talk not to me of Liberty!
Yon do not know its worth.
It could not live with Slaves like thee;
You've killed it in its birth.
Half-mast those colours,—lower away;
Hoist high the black-and-red,
The emblem of despotic sway,
Where Liberty is dead.
Almighty God!—God of the right!
Stretch forth thine arm, and save
From Despot power, from lawless might,
The poor man and the Slave.