Page:Poet Lore, volume 27, 1916.djvu/129



Of a slave begot, gave Me birth likewise a slave; Childhood’s lullaby song Was but clash of chain,— Through my life extended Rusted shackles sounded Morn till nightfall along Life’s deserted main.

Scarce felt my nape at length Youthful power and strength, Yoke of steel was firmly Bound about my neck: Taught to bow my head low, Kisses did I bestow On the lash that smote me: Brow beat earth at beck.

I, a weakly slave, grew ’Mongst my brother serfs true; Chains for jewels clinked just At each sister’s side; And where’er my gaze dwelt Anger, shame, pain I felt, As with heads bowed to dust Slaves dwelt nation wide.

Ill did I bear my fate— My bond’s music grate, Chasing from my cabin All the charm of life. When with stormy feeling I sought my lyre’s healing, In my song accursed, din Of my chains was rife.

Still my eye would often beam With a flickering gleam: I would strain my ear past Woods and streams along: