The African Slave

The African Slave

It was clear and pleasant night -
The moon and stars reflected bright -
And all was still, and on the sea
`Twas sweet and calm serenity -
When, borne on by a gentle gale,
I saw a vessel proudly sail,
And on her deck a wretch I saw;
On whom I gaz'd with pain and awe;
For well I fancied that his breast
Was torn and griev'd and ill at rest.

He careless lean'd against the mast,
And on the deck his eyeballs cast
In such a vacant, senseless stare,
With such a look of wild despair,
That had you seen his maniac brow,
(As I can almost see it now,)
Then seen his eyes in wildness roll,
And seen the anguish of his soul,
You would have wept, and gaz'd in grief
Upon the conquer'd sable chief.

He gaz'd - but yet I knew not why -
For not an object met his eye -
Except it serv'd to bring to mind
The scenes of peace he'd left behind
When stolen from his native shore
And borne across the ocean's roar. -
There was his wife - his children band
Were also in that much-loved land -
And yet he was no more to see
Their smiles of love - their look of glee.

No more was he to join the chase;
No more to run the warrior race;
No more to tread his native hill;
Nor sit beside the crystal rill
With her, the partner of his days,
To watch their offspring's childish plays;
No more behold a father's form
Nor hear a mother's welcome warm: -
But in foreign land must he
Wear life away in slavery.

When, with a most terrific glance,
He cast his eyes on those around,
And, with a cool, determin'd bound,
He sprang beyond the vessel's side
And soon was floating in the tide.
I saw an eddy on this spot,
And look'd again - but - he was not
His independent soul had fled,
And he had mingled with the dead.

Henry

2:14, p. 111

1828.06.27

From the Rural Repository