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Where hardly a human foot could pass.
Or a human heart wouli dare, On the quaking turf of the green morass He crouched in the rank and tangled
grass Like a wild beast in his lair.
A poor old slave, infirm and lame;
Great scars deformed his face; On his forehead he bore the brand of shame Anıl the rags, that hid his mangled frame,
Were the livery of disgrace.
All things above were bright and fair,
All things were glad and free; Lithe squirrels darted here and there, And wild birüs filled the echoing air
With songs of Liberty!
On him alone was the doom of pain.
From the morning of his birth; On him alone the curse of Cain Fell, like a fail on the garnered grain,
And struck him to the farihi
Loud he sang the psalm of David
In that hour, when night is calmest
That I could not choose but hear.
Songs of triumph, and ascriptions,
the Red Sea coast Perished Pharaoh and his host.
And the voice of his devotion
Paul and Silas, ir the'r prison,
But, alas / what holy argel
Half buried in the sands,
With shackled feet and hands
Beyond the fall of dews,
De per than 2 minet lies,
No m re to sink ur rise.
There the back Slave-ship swims,
Freighted with humau forms,