LYRICS FOR THE PEOPLE

No. VI.

" OH! DESPISE NOT MY HARP . "

O H ! despise not my harp, — I have cherished it long,
And its voice hath been hailed by the lovers of song;
It hath been my best solace 'mid labour and care,
And strengthened my soul in the hour of despair:
It hath wakened the spirit of love in my heart,
And raised me bright dreams which can never depart;
But, better than all, from my morning of youth,
It hath sounded for freedom and pleaded for truth.

It hath said to the rich — " Ye are wealthy and great, —
Oh! scorn not the thousands of lowly estate;
For the treasures ye hold, and the powers ye possess,
Were lent you to soften the woes of distress:
A bountiful Providence put you in trust, —
As His stewards on earth be ye gentle and just!
And still let this beautiful truth be believed,
That " a blessing bestowed is a blessing received." "

It hath said to the poor — " Ye are feeble and frail,
And well may the hand of oppression prevail,
For passion and ignorance rule ye in turn,
As with sadness ye droop, as with anger ye burn:
Indeed ye have sorrows, and heavy ones, too,
And a feeling of wrong which ye cannot subdue;
Let me teach ye to hope and prepare for the day,
When your chains shall be broken, your griefs pass away. "

Thus singeth my harp, — thus it ever shall sing,
To the lord and the peasant, the priest and the king;
And though it may pour out its breathings in vain,
It shall never relapse into silence again:
Till the breast of the bondsman with liberty thrill,
The harp of the poet should never be still;
And mine, while the fire in my soul shall endure,
Shall respond unto all that may plead for the poor.