 | Western windows and other poems |  |
183
THE OPEN SLAVE-PEN.
We start from sleep in morning's buoyant dawn,
And find the horror which our sleep oppress'd
A vanish'd darkness, in the daylight gone—
The nightmare's burthen leaves the stifled breast.
And find the horror which our sleep oppress'd
A vanish'd darkness, in the daylight gone—
The nightmare's burthen leaves the stifled breast.
Yet still a presence moves about the brain,
Some frightful shadow lost in hazy light,
And in the noonday highway comes again.
The loathsome phantom of the breathless night.
Some frightful shadow lost in hazy light,
And in the noonday highway comes again.
The loathsome phantom of the breathless night.
So, while before these hateful doors I stand,
I feel the burdening darkness which is pass'd,
Or passing surely from the awaken'd land:
The nightmare clutches me and holds me fast.
I feel the burdening darkness which is pass'd,
Or passing surely from the awaken'd land:
The nightmare clutches me and holds me fast.
Back from the years that seem so long ago
Return the dark processions which have been;
Lifting again lost manacles of woe
They enter here—they vanish, going in.
Return the dark processions which have been;
Lifting again lost manacles of woe
They enter here—they vanish, going in.
184
Hark to the smother'd murmur of a race
Within these walls—its helpless wail and moan—
Which, for the ancient shadow on its face,
Call'd not the morning's new-born light its own!
Within these walls—its helpless wail and moan—
Which, for the ancient shadow on its face,
Call'd not the morning's new-born light its own!
Imprison'd here, what unforgotten cries
Of hopeless torture and what sights of woe,
From cotton-field and rice-plantation rise!—
These walls have heard, and seen, and witness show.
Of hopeless torture and what sights of woe,
From cotton-field and rice-plantation rise!—
These walls have heard, and seen, and witness show.
The human drove, the human driver, see!
Hark, the dread bloodhound in the swamp at bay!
The whipping-post reëchoes agony;
The slave-mart blackens all the shameful day.
Hark, the dread bloodhound in the swamp at bay!
The whipping-post reëchoes agony;
The slave-mart blackens all the shameful day.
The wife and husband, see, asunder thrust;
The mother dragg'd from her far children's wail;
The maiden torn from love and given to lust—
The Human Family in a bill of sale!
The mother dragg'd from her far children's wail;
The maiden torn from love and given to lust—
The Human Family in a bill of sale!
All sounds reëcho, all sights reäppear:
(O blindness, deafness! that ye can not be!)
All sounds of woe, that have been heard, I hear;
All sights of shame, that have been seen, I see!
(O blindness, deafness! that ye can not be!)
All sounds of woe, that have been heard, I hear;
All sights of shame, that have been seen, I see!
185
O sounds, be still! O visions, leave the day!—
What thunder trembled on the sultry air?
What lightnings went upon their breathless way?
Behold the stricken gates of old despair!
What thunder trembled on the sultry air?
What lightnings went upon their breathless way?
Behold the stricken gates of old despair!
The writing on these barbarous walls was plain;
The curse has fallen none would understand:
God's deluge ere another happier rain;
His plow of fire before the reaper's land!
The curse has fallen none would understand:
God's deluge ere another happier rain;
His plow of fire before the reaper's land!
The awful nightmare slips into its night,
With cannon-flash and noise of hurrying shell:
O prisons, open for returning light,
The sun is in the world, and all is well!
With cannon-flash and noise of hurrying shell:
O prisons, open for returning light,
The sun is in the world, and all is well!
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