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04c. 1844 AD
In ocean’s wide domains, Half buried in the sands, Like skeletons in chains With shackled feet and hands. Beyond the fall of dews, Deeper than plummet lies, Float ships, with all their crews, No more to sink or rise. There the black slave-ship swims Freighted with human forms, Those fettered, fleshless limbs Are not the sport of storms. These are the bones of slaves: They gleam from the abyss; They cry from yawning waves, “We are the Witnesses!” 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; Murders, that with affright Scare school-boys from their play. All evil thoughts and deeds; Anger, and lust, and pride; The foulest, rankest weeds, That choke life’s groaning tide! These are the woes of slaves; They glare from the abyss; They cry, from unknown graves— “We are the Witnesses!”
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06c. 1844 AD
The little I have seen of the world teaches me to look upon the errors of others in sorrow, not in anger. When I take the history of one poor heart that has sinned and suffered, and represent to myself the struggles and temptations it has passed through, the brief pulsations of joy, the feverish inquietude of hope and fear, the pressure of want, the desertion of friends, I would fain leave the erring soul of my fellow-man with Him from whose hand it came.
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23c. 1844 AD
I saw the long line of the vacant shore The sea-weed and the shells upon the sand, And the brown rocks left bare on every hand, As if the ebbing tide would flow no more, Then heard I, more distinctly than before, The ocean breathe and its great breast expand, And hurrying came on the defenceless land The insurgent waters with tumultuous roar. All thought and feeling and desire, I said, Love, laughter, and the exultant joy of song Have ebbed from me forever! Suddenly o'er me They swept again from their deep ocean bed And in a tumult of delight, and strong As youth, and beautiful as youth, upbore me.
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