Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
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| V. | V.— A Stave for the South.
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 | Ballads for the Times |  |
461
V.— A Stave for the South.
I knew it, I guess'd it! you do what you can;
It's hardly your fault if you can't:
You wish better things; but a man is but Man,
And often must wait and must want:
For System, and matters and things as they are
Have order'd and settled it so,
That we who are judging your case from afar
Know little—how little we know!
It's hardly your fault if you can't:
You wish better things; but a man is but Man,
And often must wait and must want:
For System, and matters and things as they are
Have order'd and settled it so,
That we who are judging your case from afar
Know little—how little we know!
Aye, glad would ye be, (let me credit you this,)
If on your American shore
Slavery never had been as it is,
And never should be any more!
But how to get rid of so ancient an ill,
And safely and sagely to heal
A canker so deep, is the mystery still,
And who shall its riddle reveal?
If on your American shore
Slavery never had been as it is,
And never should be any more!
But how to get rid of so ancient an ill,
And safely and sagely to heal
A canker so deep, is the mystery still,
And who shall its riddle reveal?
Moreover,—and, Conscience, I give thee this nudge,
A sinner, but yesterday shriven,
How dare he set up in the seat of the judge
The culprit so lately forgiven?
But yesterday, half Britain's colonies rung
With slavery's echoing chain,—
And ill it becomes us with Pharisee tongue
To mock at a planter again!
A sinner, but yesterday shriven,
How dare he set up in the seat of the judge
The culprit so lately forgiven?
But yesterday, half Britain's colonies rung
With slavery's echoing chain,—
And ill it becomes us with Pharisee tongue
To mock at a planter again!
462
Yet more: for that planter's own father—and our's,
This sin as a legacy left,
A fly in the ointment, a snake in the flowers,
An Achan's inherited theft!
O Britain, thy child, thy Columbian child
Received at thy step-mother hand
The gain—or the curse, that we hold him defiled
If he leaves, as he found, in the land!
This sin as a legacy left,
A fly in the ointment, a snake in the flowers,
An Achan's inherited theft!
O Britain, thy child, thy Columbian child
Received at thy step-mother hand
The gain—or the curse, that we hold him defiled
If he leaves, as he found, in the land!
And well do I gather, O friends in the South,
That zealots dishonestly rave
With bitter intent and a slanderous mouth
Of the woes that you deal to the slave;
Not cruel, not careless of body or mind,
Not heartless, nor heedless are ye,—
But good and true masters, indulgent and kind,
Aye, kinder than we to the free!
That zealots dishonestly rave
With bitter intent and a slanderous mouth
Of the woes that you deal to the slave;
Not cruel, not careless of body or mind,
Not heartless, nor heedless are ye,—
But good and true masters, indulgent and kind,
Aye, kinder than we to the free!
For sadly I note that on Liberty's coast
The Briton may starve at his toil,
Though loud be profession, and principle's boast
That here are no serfs of the soil!
Ah, tell me how freedom is freedom, if Life
Depends upon servitude stern?
And perishing children and famishing wife
Live only so long as you earn?
The Briton may starve at his toil,
Though loud be profession, and principle's boast
That here are no serfs of the soil!
Ah, tell me how freedom is freedom, if Life
Depends upon servitude stern?
And perishing children and famishing wife
Live only so long as you earn?
No! words are not things: unfairly we speak
As if freedom were freedom indeed;
While pallid and hollow is poverty's cheek,
And deeply her bosom doth bleed:
Let Britain and Erin and all the world o'er,
Though boasting of liberty still,
Be humble and dumb, when the weak and the poor
Drain Slavery's bitterest ill!
As if freedom were freedom indeed;
While pallid and hollow is poverty's cheek,
And deeply her bosom doth bleed:
463
Though boasting of liberty still,
Be humble and dumb, when the weak and the poor
Drain Slavery's bitterest ill!
And more: for of old a mysterious curse
Dark Canäan mark'd for its prey;
And Prophecy knew that their lot should be worse,
“The servants of servants” are they!
And if the glad Gospel has scatter'd that harm
With a Catholic message of peace,
It is not at once that it shatters the charm
And calls on the sorrow to cease!
Dark Canäan mark'd for its prey;
And Prophecy knew that their lot should be worse,
“The servants of servants” are they!
And if the glad Gospel has scatter'd that harm
With a Catholic message of peace,
It is not at once that it shatters the charm
And calls on the sorrow to cease!
So then, loving brother! consider my speech;
I judge not; I dare not condemn;
But let the great nations of History teach
How slavery's curse ruin'd them!
Let Babylon, Persia, and Athens, and Tyre,
And Egypt, and Carthage, and Rome,
Declare the dark doom that they saw drawing nigher,
As slavery swarm'd in the home!
I judge not; I dare not condemn;
But let the great nations of History teach
How slavery's curse ruin'd them!
Let Babylon, Persia, and Athens, and Tyre,
And Egypt, and Carthage, and Rome,
Declare the dark doom that they saw drawing nigher,
As slavery swarm'd in the home!
With shame I confess that so late and so long
We, Britons and Christians and all,
Against our Father and brethren did wrong
By holding those brethren in thrall:
Yet now have we turn'd from the sin and the shame
And tenderly pray and expect
The child whom we love to do sagely the same
Before he be ruin'd and wreck'd!
We, Britons and Christians and all,
Against our Father and brethren did wrong
By holding those brethren in thrall:
Yet now have we turn'd from the sin and the shame
And tenderly pray and expect
The child whom we love to do sagely the same
Before he be ruin'd and wreck'd!
464
Move wisely and warily; haste is but waste
Of mercy, and safety, and wealth:
Remember that prudence was never misplaced,
And good may be compass'd by stealth:
For Prudence is Providence all the world o'er,
And wiser than we were, be ye;
Teach, train, and instruct, ere you open the door
To let the born bondman go free.
Of mercy, and safety, and wealth:
Remember that prudence was never misplaced,
And good may be compass'd by stealth:
For Prudence is Providence all the world o'er,
And wiser than we were, be ye;
Teach, train, and instruct, ere you open the door
To let the born bondman go free.
In wisdom and mercy, redeem when you can;
Let good willing service be paid;
Remember the rights and the wrongs of a Man,
And that “of one blood we are made;”
Hold sacred Affections, in black as in white;
No babe from the mother divide;
And welcome, as friendly, Religion's true Light;
And lay the red lashes aside!
Let good willing service be paid;
Remember the rights and the wrongs of a Man,
And that “of one blood we are made;”
Hold sacred Affections, in black as in white;
No babe from the mother divide;
And welcome, as friendly, Religion's true Light;
And lay the red lashes aside!
Then, in the full season, with caution and care
Join England in freeing the slave;
And all the degenerate world shall not dare
Take from him the gift that we gave!
If glorious Columbia with Britain unite
In killing this hydra of earth,
Oh! Man shall have gain'd more of Good and of Right,
Than all California's worth!
Join England in freeing the slave;
And all the degenerate world shall not dare
Take from him the gift that we gave!
If glorious Columbia with Britain unite
In killing this hydra of earth,
Oh! Man shall have gain'd more of Good and of Right,
Than all California's worth!
| Ballads for the Times | |