Poems on Slavery

“These are the woes of Slaves;They glare from the abyss;They cry, from unknown graves,"We are the Witnesses!””

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“And oft the blessed time foretellsWhen all men shall be free;And musical, as silver bells,Their falling chains shall be.””

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“In Ocean's wide domains,Half buried in the sands,Lie 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 nor rise. There the black Slave-ship swims,Freighted with human forms,Whose fettered, fleshless limbsAre not the sport of storms. These are the bones of Slaves;They gleam from the abyss;They cry, from yawning waves, Within Earth's wide domainsAre markets for men's lives;Their necks are galled with chains,Their wrists are cramped with gyves. Dead bodies, that the kiteIn deserts makes its prey;Murders, that with affrightScare 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,””

— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow