Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE FREED ISLANDS, by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: A few brief years have passed away Last Line: "to new-world tyrants, old-world kings!" Subject(s): Emancipation Movement & Proclamation; Great Britain - Commonwealth & Colonies; West Indies; Antislavery Movement - United States; British Empire; England - Empire; Caribbean Islands | ||||||||
A FEW brief years have passed away Since Britain drove her million slaves Beneath the tropic's fiery ray: God willed their freedom; and to-day Life blooms above those island graves! He spoke! across the Carib Sea, We heard the clash of breaking chains, And felt the heart-throb of the free, The first strong pulse of liberty Which thrilled along the bondman's veins. Though long delayed, and far, and slow, The Briton's triumph shall be ours: Wears slavery here a prouder brow Than that which twelve short years ago Scowled darkly from her island bowers? Mighty alike for good or ill With Mother-land, we fully share The Saxon strength, the nerve of steel, The tireless energy of will, The power to do, the pride to dare. What she has done can we not do? Our hour and men are both at hand; The blast which Freedom's angel blew O'er her green islands, echoes through Each valley of our forest land. Hear it, old Europe! we have sworn The death of slavery. When it falls, Look to your vassals in their turn, Your poor dumb millions, crushed and worn, Your prisons and your palace walls! O kingly mockers! scoffing show What deeds in Freedom's name we do; Yet know that every taunt ye throw Across the waters, goads our slow Progression towards the right and true. Not always shall your outraged poor, Appalled by democratic crime, Grind as their fathers ground before; The hour which sees our prison door Swing wide shall be their triumph time. On then my brothers! every blow Ye deal is felt the wide earth through; Whatever here uplifts the low Or humbles Freedom's hateful foe, Blesses the Old World through the New. Take heart! The promised hour draws near; I hear the downward beat of wings, And Freedom's trumpet sounding clear: "Joy to the people! woe and fear To new-world tyrants, old-world kings!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MIDSUMMER: 27 by DEREK WALCOTT THE SCHOONER FLIGHT by DEREK WALCOTT THE DROWNED HIDALGO DREAMS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET CHOOSING A PROFESSION by MARY LAMB THE INDIAN MAID. DEMARARIE, OCT. 27, 1781 by EDWARD THOMPSON (1739-1786) AMY WENTWORTH; FOR WILLIAM BRADFORD by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER AN AUTOGRAPH (1) by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ASTRAEA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER AT LAST by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER AT PORT ROYAL by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER BARBARA FRIETCHIE [SEPTEMBER 13, 1862] by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |
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