A Bondman's Meditation
Dublin Core
Title
A Bondman's Meditation
Description
O, ever thus throughout my way,
The flesh and soul shall man enchain,
In vain must sorrow's wailing cry
Then Death, my friend, to thee I pray;
The woes that here my soul do beat,
Saddle River, N.J., Sept. 26, 1859.
From dawning life till closing hour,
Must slavery cloud my fairest day,Its hellish blackness round me lower.
The flesh and soul shall man enchain,
And shackles lock on limbs and mind,
Yet none be found to case our pain,Nor none the fetters to unbind?
In vain must sorrow's wailing cry
Ascend and sound the blue above—
And beats no heart beyond the sky—Unknown are justice, pity, love?
Then Death, my friend, to thee I pray;
From thee a favor I do crave—
In mercy take my breath away,This body give the friendly grave.
The woes that here my soul do beat,
Will hurtless break against the mound
That covers o'er the lone retreat—To tyrants' rage the grave's a bound.
Saddle River, N.J., Sept. 26, 1859.
Creator
A.P. Smith
Source
1:13, p. 1
Date
10.15.1859
Collection
Citation
A.P. Smith, “A Bondman's Meditation,” Periodical Poets, accessed September 8, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/585.
Comments