But the voice of Nature was too weak; Then pale as death grew the maiden's cheek The Slaver led her from the door, He led her by the hand, To be his slave and paramour THE WITNESSES. IN Ocean's wide domains, Half buried in the sands, Lie skeletons in chains, With shackled feet and hands. Beyond the fall of dews, Deeper than plummet lies, There the black Slave-ship swims, These are the bones of Slaves; They cry, Within Earth's wide domains Are markets for men's lives; Their necks are galled with chains, Their wrists are cramped with gyves. Dead bodies, that the kite In deserts makes its prey; Scare schoolboys from their play. That choke Life's groaning tide! These are the woes of Slaves; THE WARNING. BEWARE! The Israelite of old, who tore Upon the pillars of the temple laid His desperate hands, and in its overthrow Destroyed himself, and with him those who made A cruel mockery of his sightless woe; The poor, blind Slave, the scoff and jest of all, Expired, and thousands perished in the fall! There is a poor, blind Samson in this land, Shorn of his strength, and bound in bonds of steel, Who may, in some grim revel, raise his hand, And shake the pillars of this Commonweal, Till the vast Temple of our liberties A shapeless mass of wreck and rubbish lies. THE SEASIDE AND THE FIRESIDE. DEDICATION. AS one who, walking in the twilight gloom, So walking here in twilight, O my friends! If any thought of mine, or sung or told, Thanks for the sympathies that ye have shown! Friends are around us, though no word be spoken. Kind messages that pass from land to land; Kind letters, that betray the heart's deep history, The pleasant books, that silently among Our household treasures take familiar places, And are to us as if a living tongue Spake from the printed leaves or pictured faces: Perhaps on earth I never shall behold, With eye of sense, your outward form and semblance; Therefore to me ye never will grow old, But live for ever young in my remembrance. ! Never grow old, nor change, nor pass away Not chance of birth or place has made us friends, Being oftentimes of different tongues and nations, But the endeavour for the selfsame ends, With the same hopes, and fears, and aspirations. Therefore I hope to join your seaside walk, The grand, majestic symphonies of ocean. Therefore I hope, as no unwelcome guest, By the Seaside. THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP. "BUILD me straight, O worthy Master! Staunch and strong, a goodly vessel, That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!" The merchant's word Delighted the Master heard; For his heart was in his work, and the heart Giveth grace unto every art. A quiet smile played round his lips, As the eddies and dimples of the tide And with a voice that was full of glee, And first with nicest skill and art, |