God of the helpless! Friend
Of those who bleed in woe!
To thee, to thee we send
Our supplication now.

Hear from thy throne on high —
Oh! hear and send relief;
Look with propitious eye
Upon the black man's grief.

In thraldom's chain he pines,
Degraded and oppress'd;
No light within him shines,
Nor joy upheaves his breast.

For him, for him we pray,
And thy good-will bespeak;
Oh! let a happier day
Upon his eye-lids break.

Let light and love abound;
Let all their duty see:
And haste, with joy profound,
The day of Jubilee.