 | Complete Poems of Frances E. W. Harper |  |
DIED OF STARVATION
They forced him into prison,
Because he begged for bread;
“My wife is starving—dying!”
In vain the poor man plead.
Because he begged for bread;
“My wife is starving—dying!”
In vain the poor man plead.
They forced him into prison,
Strong bars enclosed the walls,
While the rich and proud were feasting
Within their sumptuous halls.
Strong bars enclosed the walls,
While the rich and proud were feasting
Within their sumptuous halls.
He'd striven long with anguish,
Had wrestled with despair;
But his weary heart was breaking
'Neath its crushing load of care.
Had wrestled with despair;
But his weary heart was breaking
'Neath its crushing load of care.
And he prayed them in that prison,
“Oh, let me seek my wife!”
For he knew that want was feeding
On the remnant of her life.
“Oh, let me seek my wife!”
For he knew that want was feeding
On the remnant of her life.
That night his wife lay moaning
Upon her bed in pain;
Hunger gnawing at her vitals,
Fever scorching through her brain.
Upon her bed in pain;
Hunger gnawing at her vitals,
Fever scorching through her brain.
17
She wondered at his tarrying,
He was not wont to stay;
'Mid hunger, pain and watching,
The moments waned away.
He was not wont to stay;
'Mid hunger, pain and watching,
The moments waned away.
Sadly crouching by the embers,
Her famished children lay;
And she longed to gaze upon them,
As her spirit passed away.
Her famished children lay;
And she longed to gaze upon them,
As her spirit passed away.
But the embers were too feeble,
She could not see each face,
So she clasped her arms around them—
'Twas their mother's last embrace.
She could not see each face,
So she clasped her arms around them—
'Twas their mother's last embrace.
They loosed him from his prison,
As a felon from his chain;
Though his strength was hunger bitten,
He sought his home again.
As a felon from his chain;
Though his strength was hunger bitten,
He sought his home again.
Just as her spirit linger'd
On Time's receding shore,
She heard his welcome footstep
On the threshold of the door.
On Time's receding shore,
She heard his welcome footstep
On the threshold of the door.
He was faint and spirit-broken,
But, rousing from despair,
He clasped her icy fingers,
As she breathed her dying prayer.
But, rousing from despair,
He clasped her icy fingers,
As she breathed her dying prayer.
With a gentle smile and blessing,
Her spirit winged its flight,
As the morn, in all its glory,
Bathed the world in dazzling light.
Her spirit winged its flight,
As the morn, in all its glory,
Bathed the world in dazzling light.
There was weeping, bitter weeping,
In the chamber of the dead,
For well the stricken husband knew
She had died for want of bread.
In the chamber of the dead,
For well the stricken husband knew
She had died for want of bread.
| Complete Poems of Frances E. W. Harper | |