 | Fantasy and Passion |  |
CUBA.
We know the black scowl of her brow,
Her tyrant greed, her bigot glee,
Old arrogant Spain, that reaches now
A lean dark arm across the sea!
Her tyrant greed, her bigot glee,
Old arrogant Spain, that reaches now
A lean dark arm across the sea!
“Once slave, and so for ever slave,”
On ocean-winds her proud words float,
While, by the warm Caribbean wave,
Her talons meet in Cuba's throat!
On ocean-winds her proud words float,
While, by the warm Caribbean wave,
Her talons meet in Cuba's throat!
And Cuba, levelled of the grip,
Shivers and strains and fights to rise,
Her own blood on her moaning lip
And anguish in her lurid eyes!
Shivers and strains and fights to rise,
Her own blood on her moaning lip
And anguish in her lurid eyes!
But clear, below that tropic sun,
Gleams the wild hand she stretches forth,
Where the dim domes of Washington
Bulge up against the mighty North!
Gleams the wild hand she stretches forth,
Where the dim domes of Washington
Bulge up against the mighty North!
And we, that know and hear and see
Her strife to break from crushing powers,
To gain our giant help and be
A thing no more that quails and cowers,
Her strife to break from crushing powers,
To gain our giant help and be
A thing no more that quails and cowers,
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We hold her as some mere hurt brute,
And muse, while watching her mad pain,
“Tobacco ... sugar ... coffee ... fruit ...
She never should belong to Spain!”
And muse, while watching her mad pain,
“Tobacco ... sugar ... coffee ... fruit ...
She never should belong to Spain!”
January, 1873.
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