The son of the pilgrim has passed on his way,
To seek the wild land where his father had died;
He longs by his tomb of the desart to pray,
And place a momento of love by its side.
Dark woods and wild streams will his footsteps surround;
The thirst of…
The sultry day is done! How joyouslyThe cooling breeze (that all day long has sleptIn thicket, grove and bow'r, or half awake,Has softly nestled on the fragrant breastOf violet or rose, pilf'ring their sweets)Springs from the mountain's top, with…
They say these stars do shine more bright
Than those of the Northern zone,
And these skies do glow with a warmer light
Than freedom's land doth own.
They tell me that where the bondmen flee
My brothers starve and die;
But oh! I would go where…
The king of day's proud course was done;
His fire grew red, and dim, and soon
We parted with the glorious sun,
To welcome in the silvery moon;
The starts shed down their lustrous light
Upon the face of earth serene -
The bright, majestic queen…
Chain'd foot to foot and hand to hand,
The captives took their way,
Goaded along by scourge or brand, Wearied and sad, to the distant strand
Where the darkling slave-ship lay.
Fearful its hidden dangers were,
Where comes no breath of balmy air
To…
[The following remarkable poem was sent to me from the South by a friend, who informs me that the author of it was a slave named Mingo, a man of wonderful talents and on that [?] oppressed by his master. While in the slave prison, he penciled this…
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…
If the following be not merely `Fancy's Sketch,' it is at least to be hoped that the `Palace' of the fair original who sat for the picture, rears its cobwebbed ceilings in some far distant land.Give me one ounce of civit, good apothecary,To sweeten…
Shout to the winds of heavenBabylon at length shall fall;The flat hath been givenAnd mightly watchers call"The time is come! her g[?] yokeFrom off cretion's neck is broke!"Toussaint L'Overture,With myriad unseen bands,Has made destruction sure;And…
"Watchman, what of the night?"
The storm has begun, the thunders are pealing,
The lightning of truth, like the stern flashing eye
Of Justice, that sleeps not, of vengeance unfeeling
Are bursting from clouds in their conflict on high;
The winds of…
