Page:A Selection of Original Songs, Scraps, Etc., by Ned Farmer (1st ed.).djvu/17



you term stars in yonder skies Are lovelier far—they 're angel's eyes; And when looks dim that glorious throng, They weep that those they love do wrong. The soft and murmuring winds you hear Are sighs that precede the coming tear, My Mother's, 'mong them, oft in showers; I've knelt me down and pray'd for hours, Hoping a tear from her bright eye Might fall upon her Orphan Boy. You've heard the thunder's awful crash, And seen the lightning's vivid flash; 'Tis "" in anger, "" who gave Life to the White man and the Slave. Who will demand the reason why You thus enslave Indian Boy? "Will judge us by the heart within, "Nor heed the color of the skin."