Page:Poems written during the progress of the abolition question in the United States.djvu/90

 In servitude, and nursed in scorn, Casting aside the weary weight And fetters of its low estate, In that strong majesty of soul, Which knows no color, tongue or clime— Which still hath spurned the base control Of tyrants through all time! For other hands than mine may wreath The laurel round thy brow of death, And speak thy praise, as one whose word A thousand fiery spirits stirred,— Who crushed his foeman as a worm— Whose step on human hearts fell firm:— Be mine the better task to find A tribute for thy lofty mind, Amidst whose gloomy vengeance shone Some milder virtues all thine own,— Some gleams of feeling pure and warm, Like sunshine on a sky of storm,— Proofs that the Negro's heart retains Some nobleness amidst its chains,— That kindness to the wronged is never Without its excellent reward,— Holy to human-kind, and ever Acceptable to God.