[The "Evening Post" publishes the following exquisite little poem, with a paragraph stating that it was received with a note, not from its author, to the effect that "it was written as a dirge for a friend—a young, gifted, and highly cultivated…
Wide over the tremulous sea
The moon spread her mantle of light,
And the gale, gently dying away,
Breathed soft on the bosom of night.
By the sea-side a panting slave stood,
And poured forth his pitiful tale;
His tears were unseen in the…
The camp has had its day of song;
The sword, the bayonet, the plume,
Have crowded out of song too long
The plow, the anvil, and the loom
Oh! not upon our tented fields
Are freedom's heroes bred alone;
The training of the workshop yields
More…
Do something for each other—
Though small the help may be;
There's comfort oft in little things,
Far more than others see!
It takes the sorrow from the eye,
It leaves the world less bare,
If but a friendly hand come nigh
When friendly hands…
[At a recent slave sale, in one of the Southern states, the auctioneer, in a drunken humor, guaranteed the Christianity of the negro upon the block, and offered to sell him by the pound.] He can mow and how, and shovel and dig,
And team, and lower,…
Hush! let the baby sleep!
Mark her hand so white and slender,Note her red lip, full and tender,And her breathing, like the motionWhich the waves of calmest ocean
In their peaceful throbbing keep.
Hush! let the baby rest!
Who would wake from…
Under the wave!Keel that has girt its furrow round the world,Canvas to every ocean breeze unfurled,Cordage that rang like harp-strings to the blast,Lithe spars that bent and struggled as it past,Like wrestler's braveInto the surging gulf of waters…
Slavery, O Slavery! I cannot conceiveWhy judges and magistrates do not relieveMy down-trodden people from under thy hand,Restore them their freedom, and give them their land.The loud voice of reason incessantly cries,Ye lovers of Mammon, when will ye…
"When he went from the jail to the gallows, he stooped to kiss a colored child that stood near."The following lines were written by Mrs. Lydia Maria Child, and sung at the Music Hall, on the twenty-sixth National Anti-Slavery…
"Lord, thou art great!" I cry when in the East,
The day is blooming like a rose of fire,
When to partake anew of life's rich feast
Nature and man awake with fresh desire;
When art thou seen more gracious, God of power? Than in the morn's great…
