Stanzas, to the Abolitionists of America

               Toil and pray!
Groweth flesh and spirit faint?
Think of her who pours her plaint
               All the day—
Her—the wretched negro wife,
Robbed of all that sweetens life—
Her—who weeps in anguish wild
For the husband and the child
               Torn away!—

               Nature’s ties,
Binding heart with kindred heart,
Rent remorselessly apart—
               Tears and sighs,
Shrieks and prayers unheeded given,
Calling out from earth to heaven—
All that speaks the slave’s distress—
All that in his cup doth press
               Agonies—

               Wo and blight,
Broken heart and palsied mind,
Reason crushed and conscience blind,
               Darkest night
Shutting from the spirit’s eye,
Lights and glory from on high—
Think of these—and falter not!
Toil—until the slave is brought
               Up to light!

               What though Hate
Darkly scowls upon your path?
Fear not ye the tyrant’s wrath—
               Hope, and wait—
For though long the strife endure,
Freedom’s triumph shall be sure—
Toil in faith, for God hath spoken,
Every fetter shall be broken,
               Soon or late.

               Not in vain
Hath been heard your voice of warning—
Lo! a better day is dawning;
               And again
Shall be heard, from sea to sea,
Loudest songs of jubilee,
Bursting from a franchised nation,
As it leaps in exultation
               From the chain!