lands and are seeking homes elsewhere. The South Carolinian, as he looks for the last time on the home of his ancestors, mournfully says:
One look, one last look, to the cots and the towers;The refugee from the Ethiopian fetich in Florida smites his breast as he exclaims:
To the rows of our vines and the beds of our flowers;
To the church where the bones of our fathers decayed;
Where we fondly had hoped that our own should be laid.
Farewell to thy fountains, farewell to thy shades;The Louisiana and Mississippi planter, as he resolutely turns his steps towards the setting sun to seek a new home in the farther West, gives vent to the sad refrain:
To the song of thy youth, the dance of thy maids.
Farewell and forever; the franchised ex-slave
May rule in the halls of the free and the brave.
Our hearths we abandon, our lands we resign,
But, Father, we kneel to no altar but Thine.