ONE hour for distant homes to weep, 'Midst Afric's burning sand, One silent sunset hour was given To the slaves of many lands. They sat beneath a lonely palm, In the gardens of their lord; And, mingling with the fountain's tune, Their songs of exile poured. And strangely, sadly did those lays Of Alp and ocean sound, With Afric's wild, red skies above, And solemn wastes around. Broken with tears were oft their tones And most when most they tried To breathe of hope and liberty, From hearts that inly died. So met the sons of many lands, Parted by mount and main; So did they sing in brotherhood, Made kindred by the chain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON AN UNFINISHED STATUE BY MICHAEL ANGELO by GEORGE SANTAYANA THE BELL by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI by JOHN KEATS CALIBAN [ON THE ISLAND], FR. THE TEMPEST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE POET'S SPEAR by ARCHILOCHUS THE FIRESIDE CHAIRS; HUSBAND TO WIFE by WILLIAM BARNES |