O, Slavery! thou art a bitter draught,
And twice accursed is thy poisoned bowl.
Which taints with leprosy the white man's soul,
Not less than his by whom its dregs are quaffed. The slave sinks down, o'ercome by cruel craft,
Like beast of burden…
Brightly Freedom's mourn is breaking;Hopes that slumber'd are awaking;Gloom, from souls oppressed, is taking
Flights before its rays!
See the flag of Freedom nearing!Starry emblem, oh how cheering!Long we waited thy appearing.
Banner of the…
Toussaint, the most unhappy of men!
Whether the whistling rustic tends his plough,
Within thy hearing, or thou liest now
Buried in some deep dungeon's carless den;—O, miserable chieftain! where and when
Wilt thou find patience? Yet, die not! Do…
I know that it must be,
Yea! thou art changed—all worshipped as thou art— Mourned as thou shalt be! Sickness of the heart
Hath done its work on thee!
Thy dim eyes tell a tale,
A piteous tale, of vigils; and the traceOf bitter tears is on thy…
Spirit of joy! thy altar lies
In youthful hearts, that hope like mine.
And 'tis the light of laughing eyes
That leads us to thy fairy shrine.
There if we find the sigh, the tear,
They are not those to sorrow known,
But breathe so soft, and…
Full eighteen hundred years or more
I've kept my doors securely tied,
There is no "little angel" strayed.
Nor has been missing all the while.
I did not sleep, as you supposed,
Nor leave the door of Heaven ajar:
Nor has a "little angel"…
Oh! I am weary, mother,
And my eyes are dim with tears,
And the twilight shadows come and go,
Like mingled hopes and fears.
The world, 'tis vain, and dark, and cold,
Its frowns, they've wearied me;
Then let me sit and dream awhile,
Sweet…
Thank God for little children!
Bright flowers by earth's wayside,
The dancing, joyous life-boats
Upon life's stormy tide!
Thank God for little children!
When our skies are cold and gray,
They steal as sunshine in our hearts,
And steal our…
Oh, a wonderful stream is the river of Time,
As it runs through the realms of tears,
With a faultless rhythm and a musical rhyme,And a borad'ning sweep, and a surge sublime,
That bends with the ocean of years.
How the winters are drifting like…
In the clear air of this vernal morn,
Azure above and crystal below.
Ere the full glory of day is born,
And shadows melt in its rosy glow,
Wrapped in a billowy warp and woof—
The smoke of our household incense—stands
A fair white angel over the…
