The Martyr Of Alabama. 51

Cruel and dull, they saw in him For sport an evil chance, And then demanded of the child To give to them a dance.

"Come dance for us," the rough men said; "I can't," the child replied, "I cannot for the dear Lord's sake, Who for my sins once died."

Tho' they were strong and he was weak, He wouldn't his Lord deny. His life lay in their cruel hands, But he for Christ could die.

Heard they aright? Did that brave child Their mandates dare resist? Did he against their stern commands Have courage to insist?

Then recklessly a man (?) arose, And dealt a fearful blow. He crushed the portals of that life, And laid the brave child low.

And trampled on his prostrate form, As on a broken toy;

52 THE MARTYR OF ALABAMA.

Then danced with careless, brutal feet, Upon the murdered boy.

Christians! behold that martyred child! His blood cries from the ground; Before the sleepless eye of God, He shows each gaping wound.

Oh! Church of Christ arise! arise! Lest crimson stain thy hand, When God shall inquisition make For blood shed in the land.

Take sackcloth of the darkest hue, And shroud the pulpits round; Servants of him who cannot lie Sit mourning on the ground.

Let holy horror blanch each brow, Pale every cheek with fears, And rocks and stones, if ye could speak, Ye well might melt to tears.

Through every fane send forth a cry, Of sorrow and regret, Nor in an hour of careless ease Thy brother's wrongs forget.