No star in yonder sky that shines,
Can light like woman’s eye impart,
The earth holds not in all its mines,
A gem so rich as woman’s heart.

Her voice is like some music sweet,
Poured out from airy harps alone
Like that when storms most fondly beat,
It yields a clearer – richer tone.

And woman’s love, a holy light,
That brighter burns for aye;
Years cannot dim its radiant light
Nor even baseness quench its ray.


Our Cause

See the rays of morn are dawning!
Lot freedom sheds her mellow light;
The glorious sun breaks on the morning,
And hope's bright star illuminates the night;—

And shall we idly waste in dreaming,
Our senses and our lives away—
Willing slaves to oppressive sway—
E'en while liberty's light is beaming?

Hark! the liberty bell is pealing
Loud and dear its accents fall;
Tyranny beneath its chime is reeling,—
Arouse! enslaved ones, at its call!

Behold our banner proudly waving!
Comet join ye to this worthy band,
And drive oppression from the land:—
Our cause a world is saving.

Come, brothers! then to the rescue come!
Sure, heaven will your efforts bless;
Come, sisters! all to the rescue come!
nion is sure to bring success.

Come, stay oppression's withering blight,—
Yes ! rise, and break the galling chains,
Where'er on earth the tyrant reigns;
Then the enslaved shall have redress.

From the Valentine Offering
Lowell, Feb. 13th.
Voice of industry,


The Young Lady's Choice

Give me the man that's learned without pretence,
Blest with good nature and with common sense;
Whose noble, generous, understanding heart
Disdains to act a mean, dissembling part;

Who once from virtue's path has never strayed,
Deceived no fair one, nor a friend betrayed;
Where virtue rules with an unbounded sway.
Then sense and reason prompts one to obey.

Such be the man with whom I'd stand my life.
Or never let me own the name of W



When swift reform is all the rage,
And critics put the lash on
The vices of this sinful age,
‘Tis strange none notice Fashion

That evil jade, who leads astray
Each weak, confiding creature,
And rules with stern despotic sway,
Each mortal’s form and feature,

Tells how we ought to dress and talk;
And by her legislation
Controls her victims in their walk,
‘Gainst Nature’s regulation.

Proud man, in God’s own image made,
And blest with light from heaven,
Delights in idle vain parade,
To waste the boon thus given.

But who can sketch our modern girls?
(And every shadow fainting?)
While they themselves are painting,
Oh, how unlike the dames of old!

Our worthy, brave grandmothers
Ne’er daubed with paint, nor decked with gold
Much less the hair of others.

Fashion now rules the fickle fair,
And makes them vain and artful,
With fair outside – but oh,
how rare with kindness is the heartful.

Oh, why so much on looks bestow,
The while the mind is sinking!
Oh, give less time to pomp and show,
And more to quiet thinking.



Rise, sisters, and your banner raise;
Will ye look for brighter days?
Hope ye mercy still?

What's the mercy slaves can gain?
Behold it on the southern plain!
Go view it o'er the eastern main'

From Russia's serfs oppressed most vile
To the servile sons of Erin's isle;
No, not for mercy will we sue,
But, ask we now our own just due.

Great and glorious is our cause,
Commanded by our Maker's laws;
Those laws which elevate mankind

Command us to enlarge our minds,

To cultivate our mental powers,
And, thus endow these minds of ours.
ime, for this is all we claim,
Time, we struggle to obtain

Then in the name of freedom rise,
No rest, till we obtain the prize.

Lowell, Mass.
Voice of Industry


The Voice of Industry is in the public domain.


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