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The Abolitionist Hymnal

by Carl Thomas Gladstone

Ho! the car Emancipation Rides majestic thro' our nation, Bearing on its train the story, Liberty! a nation's glory. Roll it along, thro' the nation, Freedom's car, Emancipation! First of all the train, and greater, Speeds the dauntless Liberator, Onward cheered amid hosannas, And the waving of free banners. Roll it along! spread your banners, While the people shout hosannas. Now again the bell is tolling, Soon you'll see the car-wheels rolling; Hinder not their destination, Chartered for Emancipation. Wood up the fire! keep it flashing, While the train goes onward dashing. Hear the mighty car-wheels humming! Now look out! the Engine's coming! Church and statesmen! hear the thunder! Clear the track or you'll fall under. Get off the track! all are singing, While the Liberty bell is ringing.
I am an Abolitionist! I glory in the name: Though now by Slavery's minions hiss'd And covered o'er with shame, It is a spell of light and power— The watchword of the free:— Who spurns it in the trial-hour, A craven soul is he! We'll lay the monster low, my friends We'll lay the monster low With God we'll crush the Slaver's sins We'll lay the monster low [last line x2] I am an Abolitionist! Then urge me not to pause; For joyfully do I enlist In FREEDOM'S sacred cause: A nobler strife the world ne'er saw, Th'enslaved to disenthral; I am a soldier for the war, Whatever may befall! I am an Abolitionist! Oppression's deadly foe; In God's great strength will I resist, And lay the monster low; In God's great name do I demand, To all be freedom given, That peace and joy may fill the land, And songs go up to heaven! I am an Abolitionist! No threats shall awe my soul, No perils cause me to desist, No bribes my nets control; In freedom will I live and die, In sunshine and in shade, And raise my voice for liberty, Of nought on earth afraid
See these poor souls from Africa, Transported to America: We are stolen, and sold to Georgia, will you go with me? sound the jubilee.   Dear Lord! dear Lord!  when will Slavery cease Then we poor souls  can have our peace; There's a better day coming There's a better day coming,   See these poor souls from Burma, Transported to brothels abroad: We are stolen, and sold away, will you go with me? sound the jubilee.   See wives and husbands sold apart, The children's screams!—it breaks the heart; We are stolen, and torn asunder will you go with me? sound the jubilee.    O, gracious Lord! when shall it be, That we poor souls shall all be free? Lord, break them Slavery powers - will you go with me? sound the jubilee.
Praise we the Lord! let songs resound To earth's remotest shore! Songs of thanksgiving, songs of praise— For we are slaves no more. And cease we not the fight of faith Till everyone be free; Till mercy o'er the earth shall flow, As waters o'er the sea. Praise we the Lord! Whose power hath rent The chains that held us long! God's voice is mighty, as of old, And still God's arm is strong. Praise we the Lord! Whose wrath arose, Whose arm our fetters broke; The tyrant dropped the lash, and we To liberty awoke! Then shall indeed Messiah's reign Through all the world extend; Then swords to ploughshares shall be turned, And Heaven with earth shall blend.
I pity the slave mother, careworn and weary, Who sighs as she presses her babe to her breast; I lament her sad fate, all so hopeless and dreary, I lament for her woes, and her wrongs unredressed, O who can imagine her heart's deep emotion, As she thinks of her children about to be sold; You may picture the bounds of the rock-girdled ocean, But the grief of that mother can never be known. Rejoice, O rejoice! for the child thou art rearing, May one day lift up its unmanacled form, While hope, to thy heart, like the rain-bow so cheering, Is born, like the rain-bow, 'mid tempest and storm. Her parents, her kindred, all crushed by oppression; Her husband still doomed in its desert to stay; No arm to protect from the tyrants aggression— She must weep as she treads on her desolate way. O, slave mother, hope! see—the nation is shaking! The arm of the Lord is awake to thy wrong! The slave-holder's heart now with terror is quaking, Salvation and Mercy to Heaven belong!
Hark! a voice from heaven proclaiming Comfort to the mourning slave; God has heard them long complaining, And extends his arm to save; Proud Oppression Soon shall find a shameful grave. Lo! the nation is arousing From its slumbers, long and deep; And the church of God is waking, Never more to sleep, While the bonded In their chains remains to weep. See! the light of truth is breaking Full and clear on every hand; And the voice of mercy, speaking, Now is heard through all the land; Firm and fearless, See the friends of Freedom stand! Long, too long, have we been dreaming O'er our country's sin and shame; Let us now, the time redeeming, Press the helpless captives' claims, Till, exulting, They shall cast aside their chains.
What Mean Ye 03:33
What mean ye that ye bruise and bind My people, saith the Lord, And starve your craving brother's mind, Who asks to hear my word When at the judgment God shall call, Where is thy brother? say, What mean ye to the Judge of all To answer on that day? What mean ye that ye make them toil, Through long and dreary years, And shed like rain upon your soil Their blood and bitter tears? What mean ye, that ye dare to rend The tender mother's heart? Brothers from sisters, friend from friend, How dare you bid them part? What mean ye, when God's gracious hand To you so much has given, That from the slave who tills your land Ye keep both earth and heaven?
Toil On 03:54
With luxury and wealth surrounded, The slaving masters proudly dare, With thirst of gold and power unbounded, To mete and vend God's light and air! To mete and vend God's light and air; vend God's light and air; Have pity on the slave; Take courage from God's word; Toil on, toil on, all hearts resolved— these captives shall be free. These captives shall be free, These captives shall be free. The fearful storm—it threatens lowering, Which God in mercy long delays; Slaves yet may see their masters cowering, While whole plantations smoke and blaze! While whole plantations smoke and blaze; plantations smoke and blaze; Too long the slave has groaned, bewailing The power these heartless tyrants wield; For with men's hearts they're unavailing; Yet free them not by sword or shield.
Spirit of Freedom, wake; No truce with Slavery make, Thy deadly foe; In fair disguises dressed, Too long hast thou caress'd The serpent in thy breast, Now lay him low. Must e'en the press be dumb? Must truth itself succumb? And thoughts be mute? Shall law be set aside, The right of prayer denied, Nature and God decried, And man called brute? Spirit of Freedom, wake; No truce with Slavery make, Thy deadly foe, Thy Deadly Foe, Thy Deadly Foe. What lover of her fame Feels not his country's shame, In this dark hour? Where are the patriots now, Of honest heart and brow, Who scorn the neck to bow To Slavery's power? Those of the Free! we call On you, in field and hall, To rise as one; Your heaven-born rights maintain, Nor let Oppression's chain On human limbs remain;— Speak! and 'tis done.
My country,' tis of thee, Stronghold of slavery, of thee I sing; Land where my fathers died, Where men man’s rights deride, From every mountainside thy deeds shall ring! thy deeds shall ring! Our father’s God! to thee, Author of Liberty, to thee we sing; Soon may our land be bright, With holy freedom’s right, Protect us by thy might, Great God, our King. Great God, our King. It comes, the joyful day, When tyranny’s proud sway, stern as the grave, Shall to the ground be hurl’d, And freedom’s flag, unfurl’d, Shall wave throughout the world, O’er every slave. O’er every slave. Trump of glad jubilee! Echo o’er land and sea freedom for all. Let the glad tidings fly, And every tribe reply, “Glory to God on high,” at Slavery’s fall. at Slavery’s fall. My country,' tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing; land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrims' pride, from every mountainside let freedom ring! let freedom ring!
Farewell 03:42
The night is dark, and keen the air, And the Slave is flying to be free; His parting word is one short prayer; O God, but give me Liberty! Farewell—farewell! Behind I leave the whips and chains, Before me spreads sweet Freedom's plains. Farewell—farewell! Farewell—farewell! One star shines in the heavens above, That guides him on his lonely way;— Star of the North—how deep his love For thee, thou star of Liberty!


The Abolitionist Hymnal is a collection of 19th Century freedom songs gleaned from a book called the "Anti Slavery Harp." Proceeds from the sale of this album go to support the ongoing fight against human trafficking through the work of Not For Sale. notforsalecampaign.org


released July 1, 2011

Nick Dymond - Acoustic, Electric, Vox
Trista Dymond - Vox
Anna Stroud Gladstone - Vox
Carl Thomas Stroud Gladstone - Vox, Acoustic
Don Hudson - Cajon, Vox
Recorded by Danny Kimosh at the Lazy Boy Studio




Carl Thomas Gladstone Detroit, Michigan

As a music and mischief maker on the prophetic edge Carl writes music as a discipline of justice-seeking and disruptive discipleship. He writes to engage people of faith and of no faith in deep questions and engaging stories that matter for the world.

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