Page:The black man - his antecedents, his genius, and his achievements (IA blackmanantecede00browrich).pdf/205

 It bade my weary, troubled soul Her sad complainings cease.

For bitter thoughts had filled my breast, And sad, and sick at heart, I longed to lay me down and rest, From all the world apart. "Outcast, oppressed on earth," I cried, O Father, take me home; O, take me to that peaceful land Beyond the moon-lit dome.

"On such a night as this," methought, "Angelic forms are near; In beauty unrevealed to us They hover in the air. O mother, loved and lost," I cried, "Methinks thou'rt near me now; Methinks I feel thy cooling touch Upon my burning brow.

"O, guide and soothe thy sorrowing child; And if 'tis not His will That thou shouldst take me home with thee,  Protect and bless me still; For dark and drear had been my life  Without thy tender smile, Without a mother's loving care,  Each sorrow to beguile."

I ceased: then o'er my senses stole A soothing, dreamy spell, And gently to my ear were borne The tones I loved so well;