I saw him in the bloom of youth,
Ere he had felt affliction's rod;
He spurned the sacred book of truth,
The glorious gospel of our God;
And scorn'd the Almighty Power above,
Whose eye creation's scope may scan;
And read the source of hate or…
[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…
Oh! dreadful, crushing thought, that grinds itselfInto the soul of him, who knows and feels, He bears a name, whose mention will debar Him from all right. It indicates no crime-- Fixes upon the soul no stain of sin, And from the exalted character of…
Thy work is done, thy toiling ceased,And from thy cares thou seekest rest;Thou hast done well, a race wll bless,And heavn reward thy faithfulness.Thy voice was heard for human right,Thy heart grew strong and spent its mightFor human weal. Thy beacon…
I weep for thee! Thy miseries,
Though unspoken, deeply felt—
More deeply felt because unbreathed—
A sister's heart may melt.
I weep for thee, whose gen'rous love
Has blessed and sheltered me;
I weep for thee—may God above
In mercy look on…
Yes, down into the tomb!—Down, down I say,To its dark depths!I do not fear its gloom,And for its shelterEarnestly I pray.The world is hideous—Heaven seems afar;Despair o'ershadows me;Its darkness to dispel,Hope has no kindly star.Ah, me! how frailAre…
O! dreadful, crushing thought, that grinds itselfInto the soul of him who knows and feelsHe bears a name whose mention will debarHim from all right. It indicates no crime—Fixes upon the soul no stain of sin—And from the exalted character of manTakes…
"Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest."
------
"COME unto me, ye who are heavy laden,"
Come unto me ye who are sore opprest;
The white haired sire, the young and tender maiden -
"Come unto me and I will…
THE tears I shed must fall,
I mourn not for an absent Swain,
For thought may past delights recall,
And parted lovers meet again.
I weep not for the silent dead.
Their toils are past, their sorrows o'er,
And those they lov'd their steps shall…
From the earth thy spirit hath flow,
Far beyond the etherial blue;
True the clods of the vale o'er thy body we cast,
But thy spirit the grave did eschew.
To the city of God it hath flown,
Where sin and disease never come,
Where sighing and…
