 | Hagar |  |
160
LAMENT OF THE FUGITIVE SLAVE.
I've wandered out beneath the moonlit heaven,
Lost mother! loved and dear,
To every star, a magic power seems given,
To bring thy spirit near:
For though the breeze of freedom fans my brow,
My soul still turns to thee, oh, where art thou?
Lost mother! loved and dear,
To every star, a magic power seems given,
To bring thy spirit near:
For though the breeze of freedom fans my brow,
My soul still turns to thee, oh, where art thou?
Where art thou, mother? I am weary thinking;
A heritage of toil and woe
Was thine—beneath it art thou slowly sinking,
Or hast thou perished long ago?
And doth thy spirit 'mid the quivering leaves above me,
Hover dear mother near to guard and love me?
A heritage of toil and woe
Was thine—beneath it art thou slowly sinking,
Or hast thou perished long ago?
And doth thy spirit 'mid the quivering leaves above me,
Hover dear mother near to guard and love me?
I murmur at my lot: in the white man's dwelling,
The mother there is found;
Or he may tell where spring buds first are swelling,
Above her lowly mound.
But thou! lost, mother, every trace of thee,
In the vast sepulchre of slavery!
The mother there is found;
Or he may tell where spring buds first are swelling,
Above her lowly mound.
But thou! lost, mother, every trace of thee,
In the vast sepulchre of slavery!
Long years have passed, since sad, faint-hearted,
I stood on freedom's shore;
And knew dear mother, from thee I was parted,
To meet thee nevermore.
And deemed the tyrant's chain with thee, were better,
Than stranger hearts, and limbs without a fetter.
I stood on freedom's shore;
And knew dear mother, from thee I was parted,
To meet thee nevermore.
And deemed the tyrant's chain with thee, were better,
Than stranger hearts, and limbs without a fetter.
161
Yet blessings on thy Roman mother's spirit,
Could I forget it then—
The parting scene! and struggle not to inherit,
A free-man's birthright once again?
O noble words! O holy love which gave
Thee strength to utter them, a poor heart-broken slave.
Could I forget it then—
The parting scene! and struggle not to inherit,
A free-man's birthright once again?
O noble words! O holy love which gave
Thee strength to utter them, a poor heart-broken slave.
Be with me mother, be thy spirit near me
Wherever thou may'st be,
In hours like this bend near, that I may hear thee,
And know that thou art free.
Summoned at length from bondage, toil and pain,
To God's free world—a world without a chain!
Wherever thou may'st be,
In hours like this bend near, that I may hear thee,
And know that thou art free.
Summoned at length from bondage, toil and pain,
To God's free world—a world without a chain!
| Hagar | |