Poetry: Your Brother Is A Slave
African American abolitionist writer William Wells Brown reprinted lines 1 and 3 of the poem in his 1853 novel Clotel; Or, the President's Daughter, at the beginning of Ch. XXI.
Oh, weep, ye friends of Freedom, weep! Shoul Liberty nomore; Your harps to mournfiil measure sweep, Till Slavery's reign is o'er, Oh, fur! your star-lit thing of ligbt - That banner should not wave Where vainly pleading for his right, Your brother toils- a sluvc! Oh, pray, ye friends of Freedom prny For ihose who toil in chains, - Who lift tlieir fettered hands to-day On Carolina' 8 plnins! God ia the hope of Uie oppreaeed; His arm is strontf to save; Pray, theiylmt Freedoin's cause beblessed; Your brolher is - a slave! Oh, toi), ye fiiends of Frecdora, toil Your mission to fulfi!, - That Freedotn's consecrated soil, Slavea may no longcr till; Ay, toil and pray, from deep disgrace Your native landlo save; Wcep o'er the miseries of your race; Ywr brolher is - a slave!