WITH thy pure dews and rains, Wash out, O God, the stains, From Afric's shore; And, while her palm trees bud, Let not her children's blood, With her broad Niger's flood, Be mingled more! Quench, righteous God, the thirst, That Congo's sons hath cursed -- The thirst for gold! Shall not thy thunders speak, Where Mammon's altars reek, Where maids and matrons shriek, Bound, bleeding, sold? Hear'st thou, O God, those chains, Clanking on Freedom's plains, By Christians wrought? Them, who those chains have worn, Christians from home have torn, Christians have hither borne, Christians have bought! Cast down, great God, the fanes That, to unhallowed gains, Round us have risen -- Temples, whose priesthood pore Moses and Jesus o'er, Then bolt the black man's door, The poor man's prison! Wilt thou not, Lord, at last, From thine own image, cast Away all cords, But that of love, which brings Man, from his wanderings, Back to the King of kings, The Lord of lords! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARRIAGE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS OF MY DEAR SON [GERVASE BEAUMONT] by JOHN BEAUMONT THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW PASA THALASSA THALASSA by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 8. THE CABLE HYMN by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO A THESAURUS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS |