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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!

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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

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Loud he sang the psalm of David
He, a Negro and enslaved,
Sang of Israel's victory,
Sang of Zion, bright and free

In that hour, when night is calmest
Sang he from the Hebrew Psalmist
In a voice so sweet and clear

That I could not choose but hear.

Songs of triumph, and ascriptions,
Such as reached the swart Egyptians,
When
upon

the Red Sea coast Perished Pharaoh and his host.

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And the voice of his devotion
Filled my soul rith strange emotion;
For its tones by turns were glad,
Sweetly solemn, wil! y sad.

Paul and Silas, ir the'r prison,
Sarg of Crist jhe Lord arisen,
And an ea thquake's arm of might
Broke their dungeon-gates at night.

But, alas / what holy argel
Brings the Slave this glad evangel?
And what earthquake's arm of might
Breaks his dui.ge n.gates at night?

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Half buried in the sands,
Lie skeletons in chains,

With shackled feet and hands

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Beyond the fall of dews,

De per than 2 minet lies,
FI Sp, with, al. their crews,

No m re to sink ur rise.

There the back Slave-ship swims,

Freighted with humau forms,
hose fettered, fleshless limbs,
Are not the sport of storms.

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