Page images
PDF
EPUB

Take heart! The promised hour draws near
I hear the downward beat of wings,
And Freedom's trumpet sounding clear-

Joy to the people!

woe and fear

-

To new world tyrants, old world kings!"

THE FAREWELL

OF A VIRGINIA SLAVE MOTHER TO HER DAUGHTERS, SOLD INTO SOUTHERN BONDAGE.

[blocks in formation]

To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings,

Where the noisome insect stings,

Where the fever demon strews
Poison with the falling dews,
Where the sickly sunbeams glare
Through the hot and misty air,—
Gone, gone sold and gone,

[ocr errors]

To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters,
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

Gone, gone- sold and gone,

To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
There no mother's eye is near them,
There no mother's ear can hear them;

Never, when the torturing lash

Seams their back with many a gash,

Shall a mother's kindness bless them,
Or a mother's arms caress them.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Oh, when weary, sad, and slow,
From the fields at night they go,

Faint with toil, and racked with pain,

To their cheerless homes again

[ocr errors]

There no brother's voice shall greet them
There no father's welcome meet them.

Gone, gone-sold and gone,

To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters
Woe is me, my stolen daughters !

Gone, gone sold and gone,

To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From the tree whose shadow lay
On their childhood's place of play-

From the cool spring where they drank

-

Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank
From the solemn house of prayer,
And the holy counsels there

Gone, gone-sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters, —
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

Gone, gone sold and gone,

[ocr errors]

To the rice-swamp dank and lone

Toiling through the weary day,
And at night the spoiler's prey.
Oh, that they had earlier died,
Sleeping calmly, side by side,
Where the tyrant's power is o'er,
And the fetter galls no more!

Gone, gone-sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters,
Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

[ocr errors]

[blocks in formation]

To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
By the holy love He beareth-
By the bruised reed He spareth-
Oh, may He, to whom alone

All their cruel wrongs are known,
Still their hope and refuge prove,
With a more than a mother's love.
Gone, gone sold and gone,
To the rice-swamp dank and lone,
From Virginia's hills and waters, -
Woe is me, my stolen daughters !

ADDRESS,

WRITTEN for the opening of "PENNSYLVANIA HALL," dedicated to Free Discussion, Virtue, Liberty, and Independence, on

the 15th of the 5th month, 1838.

[ocr errors]

Nor with the splendors of the days of old,
The spoil of nations, and "barbaric gold "-
No weapons wrested from the fields of blood,
Where dark and stern the unyielding Roman stood,
And the proud eagles of his cohorts saw
A world, war-wasted, crouching to his law
Nor blazoned car- nor banners floating gay,
Like those which swept along the Appian way,
When, to the welcome of imperial Rome,
The victor warrior came in triumph home,
And trumpet-peal, and shoutings wild and high,
Stirred the blue quiet of the Italian sky;
But calm and grateful, prayerful and sincere,
As Christian freemen, only, gathering here,
We dedicate our fair and lofty Hall,
Pillar and arch, entablature and wall,
As Virtue's shrine as Liberty's abode
Sacred to Freedom, and to Freedom's God!

Oh! loftier halls, 'neath brighter skies than these, Stood darkly mirrored in the Egean seas,

Pillar and shrine and life-like statues seen,

Graceful and pure, the marble shafts between,
Where glorious Athens from her rocky hill
Saw Art and Beauty subject to her will-
And the chaste temple, and the classic grove-
The hall of sages- and the bowers of love,

Arch, fane, and column, graced the shores, and gave
Their shadows to the blue Saronic wave;

And statelier rose, on Tiber's winding side,
The Pantheon's dome - the Coliseum's pride-
The Capitol, whose arches backward flung
The deep, clear cadence of the Roman tongue,
Whence stern decrees, like words of fate, went forth
To the awed nations of a conquered earth,
Where the proud Cæsars in their glory came,
And Brutus lightened from his lips of flame!

Yet in the porches of Athena's halls,
And in the shadows of her stately walls,
Lurked the sad bondman, and his tears of woe
Wet the cold marble with unheeded flow;
And fetters clanked beneath the silver dome

Of the proud Pantheon of imperious Rome.

Oh! not for him. - the chained and stricken slave

By Tiber's shore, or blue Ægina's wave,

In the thronged forum, or the sages' seat,

The bold lip pleaded, and the warm heart beat ;

No soul of sorrow melted at his pain,

No tear of pity rusted on his chain !

But this fair Hall, to Truth and Freedom given, Pledged to the Right before all Earth and Heaven,

A free arena for the strife of mind,

To caste, or sect, or color unconfined,

Shall thrill with echoes, such as ne'er of old
From Roman hall, or Grecian temple rolled;
Thoughts shall find utterance, such as never yet
The Propylea or the Forum met.

[ocr errors]

Beneath its roof no gladiator's strife
Shall win applauses with the waste of life;
No lordly lictor urge the barbarous game
No wanton Lais glory in her shame.
But here the tear of sympathy shall flow,

As the ear listens to the tale of woe;

Here, in stern judgment of the oppressor's wrong-
Shall strong rebukings thrill on Freedom's tongue —
No partial justice hold the unequal scale
No pride of caste a brother's rights assail
No tyrant's mandates echo from this wall,
Holy to Freedom and the Rights of All!

But a fair field, where mind may close with mind,
Free as the sunshine and the chainless wind;
Where the high trust is fixed on Truth alone,
And bonds and fetters from the soul are thrown;
Where wealth, and rank, and worldly pomp, and might,
Yield to the presence of the True and Right.

And fitting is it that this Hall should stand
Where Pennsylvania's Founder led his band,
From thy blue waters, Delaware!
- to press
The virgin verdure of the wilderness.
Here, where all Europe with amazement saw
The soul's high freedom trammeled by no law;
Here, where the fierce and warlike forest-men
Gathered in peace, around the home of PENN,
Awed by the weapons Love alone had given,
Drawn from the holy armory of Heaven;
Where Nature's voice against the bondman's wrong
First found an earnest and indignant tongue;
Where LAY's bold message to the proud was borne,
And KEITH'S rebuke, and FRANKLIN'S manly scorn-
Fitting it is that here, where Freedom first

From her fair feet shook off the Old World's dust,

Spread her white pinions to our Western blast,

And her free tresses to our sunshine cast,

One Hall should rise redeemed from Slavery's ban-
One Temple sacred to the Rights of Man!

« PreviousContinue »