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Show 158 TilE J\IONTIILY OFFERING, The fugitive Slave's apostrophe to the Nortb star, BY JOHN PIERPONT. STAR of the North I though night winds drift The fleecy drapery of the sky, Bet'ween thy lamp and me, I lift, Yen, lift with hope, my sleepless eye To the blue heights wherein thou d\vellest, And of a land of freedom tellest. Star of the North! while blating day Pours round me its full tide of light, And hides thy pale but faithful ray, I, too, lie hid, and long for nig~t: For night: I dare not walk at noon, Nor dare I trust the faithless moon- Nor faithless man, whose burning lust For gold hath riveted my chain,N or other leader can 1 trust But thee, of even the starry train ; For all the host around thee burning, Like faithless man, keep turning, turning I may not follow where they go:- Star of the North, I look to thee V/hile on I press: for, well I know Thy light and truth shall set m.e free:Thy licrht, that no poor slave decetveth; Thy tr'7uh, that all my soul believeth. They of the East behold the star That over Bethlem's manger glowed : With joy they hailed it from afar, And followed where it marked the road, Till where its rays directly fell, They found the Hope of Israel. Wise were the men who followed thus The Star that sets man free from sin ! Star of the North l thou art to us- FUGITIVE SLAVE, ETC, Who'l'e slaves because we wear a skin Dark as is Night's protecting wingThou art to us a holy thing. Am! we are wise to follow thee! I trust thy steady light alone.- Star of the North ! thou seem's! to me To burn before the Almighty's throne, To guide me through these forests dim And vast, to liberty and HIM. Thy beam is on the glassy breast . Of the still spring, upon whose bnnk I lay my weary limbs to rest, And bow my parching lips to drink. Guide of the friendless negro's way, I bless thee for this quiet ray ! In the dark top of southern pines I nestled, when the Driver's horn Called to the field, in leng!hening lines, My fellows, at the break of morn. And there I lay till thy sweet face Looked in upon "my hiding place." The tanuled cane-brake, where I crept For shelter from the heat of noon, And where, while others toiled, I slept, Till wakened by the rising moon, As its stalks felt the night wind free, Gave me to catch a glimpse of thee. Star of the North ! in bright array The constellations round thee sweep, Each holding on its nightly way, Rising, or sinking i.n the deep, . And as it hangs in mid heaven llammg, The' homage of some nation claiming. This nation to the Eagle* cowers; Fit ensign l she's a bird of spoil :- 1611 |