 | The silver bridge and other poems |  |
58
KITTY CARY.
No marble tells where Kitty Cary sleeps—
Only a simple slab of painted pine,
Time-stained and worn, her poor memorial keeps—
One brief and half-obliterated line—
Only a simple slab of painted pine,
Time-stained and worn, her poor memorial keeps—
One brief and half-obliterated line—
So near the highway, that the yellow sand
From passing wheels falls thickly on her grave—
In death, as in her life, proscribed and banned—
For Kitty Cary lived and died a slave.
From passing wheels falls thickly on her grave—
In death, as in her life, proscribed and banned—
For Kitty Cary lived and died a slave.
Ay, lived and died before the Almighty's hand
Struck the strong fetters from the bondman's limbs,
And made the farthest borders of the land
Shake with her dark-browed kindred's freedom hymns.
Struck the strong fetters from the bondman's limbs,
And made the farthest borders of the land
Shake with her dark-browed kindred's freedom hymns.
Alas! too early snapped the silver cord,
Or all too slowly came the tardy good—
Life was to her but toil without reward:
And death the welcome end of servitude.
Or all too slowly came the tardy good—
Life was to her but toil without reward:
And death the welcome end of servitude.
59
Death brought her freedom. Haply it may be
That Kitty Cary, from some fairer sphere,
Looks down to-day and pities tenderly
The bitter bondage of existence here;
That Kitty Cary, from some fairer sphere,
Looks down to-day and pities tenderly
The bitter bondage of existence here;
Yet smiles to see her race with freedom crowned,
Subject no longer to a master's rule,
Nor grieves because their thoughtless children bound
Across her grave-mound, on their way to school;
Subject no longer to a master's rule,
Nor grieves because their thoughtless children bound
Across her grave-mound, on their way to school;
For nothing guards her humble place of rest,
The straying cattle browse above her head,
Untended goats pause in their hungry quest
To crop the scanty herbage from her bed.
The straying cattle browse above her head,
Untended goats pause in their hungry quest
To crop the scanty herbage from her bed.
Yet Nature's self has not forgotten her,
But decks her lonely grave with dainty grace;
See! in the wind the blossomed sweet-briars stir,
And scatter fragrance round her resting-place.
But decks her lonely grave with dainty grace;
See! in the wind the blossomed sweet-briars stir,
And scatter fragrance round her resting-place.
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