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To serve the tyrant whom I hate
To crouch beneath his proud commandUpon my flesh to bear his brand
His blows, his bitter scorn to bide ! Would God I, in my native land,
Had with my slaughtered kinsmen died !
Ye mountains blue of Camalu,
Where once I fed my father's flock, Though desolation dwells with you,
And Amakosa's heart is broke,– Yet, spite of chains these limbs that mock,
My homeless heart to you doth fly, As flies the wild dove to the rock,
To hide its wounded breast-and die.
Yet, ere my spirit wings its flight
Unto death's silent, shadowy clime, Utíka,* Lord of life and light,
Who, high above the clouds of time, Calm sittest where yon hosts sublime
Of stars wheel round thy bright abode,Oh, let my cry unto Thee climb,
Of every race the Father-God !
I ask not judgments from thy hand
Destroying hail, nor parching drought, Nor locust-swarms to waste the land,
Nor pestilence by famine brought : I say the prayer Jankannat taught,
Who wept for Amakosa's wrongsThy kingdom come—thy will be wrought
For unto thee all power belongs.
* A word of Hottentot origin, signifying the Beautiful, now used by most of the South African tribes as the name of the Supreme Being the Christian God.
+ The Caffre name for Dr. Vanderkemp.
Thy kingdom come! Let light and grace
Throughout all lands in triumph go;
And blood and tears shall cease to flow;
And o’er the deep her arms extend,
indeed her CHRISTIAN FRIEND !
[The Rev. Levi Parsons, who was associated with the Rev. Pliny Fisk, on
the Palestine mission, died at Alexandria, February 18th, 1822.]
GREEN as Machpelah's honored field,
Where Jacob and where Leah lie,
And Carmel's branches wave on high ;
Oh! how unlike the bloody bed,
Where pride and passion seek to lie;
No tear of holy sympathy.
On Jordan's weeping willow trees
Another holy harp is hung:
As e'er from Gilead's balm was flung,
So may the harp of Gabriel sound,
In the high heaven, to welcome thee,
Of Nazareth and Galilee,
[The project for colonizing in Africa the “ free people of color? is the
subject of these lines.]
All sights are fair to the recovered blind,
All sounds are music to the deaf restored ; The lame, made whole, leaps like the sporting hind;
And the sad, bowed-down sinner, with his load
Of shame and sorrow, when he cuts the cord, And drops the pack it bound, is free again,
In the light yoke and burden of his Lord. Thus, with the birthright of his fellow man, Sees, hears and feels at once the righted African.
'Tis somewhat like the burst from death to life;
From the grave's cerements to the robes of heaven ; From sin's dominion, and from passion's strife,
To the pure freedom of a soul forgiven !
When all the bonds of death and hell are riven, And mortals put on immortality ;
When fear, and care, and grief away are driven, And mercy's hand has turned the golden key, And mercy's voice has said, “Rejoice—thy soul is free !"
The Invalid on the east End of Long Island.-BRAINARD,
FEEBLE, with languid, staff-supported step,
A moment rest we on the only stone
The notes of birds are heard in other groves,
He has heard its mighty sound,
But, in this calm and leafy grove, the sound
Let us rise
Upon the utmost bound, a clear white jet
The sun sets—and the blushing water turns
Away, from all that's bright and beautiful, From the fresh breeze, and from the glorious view, From all that's lovely, noble or sublime, To the sick pillow and the feverish bed. There may good angels watch me, and good thoughts Crowd to my dreaming and my waking hours;