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Again he clasped me to his breast,
And said that we must part:
I tried to speak—but, oh! it seemed
An arrow reached my heart.
And said that we must part:
I tried to speak—but, oh! it seemed
An arrow reached my heart.
"Bear not," I cried, "unto your grave,
The yoke you've borne from birth;
No longer live a helpless slave,
The meanest thing on earth!"
The yoke you've borne from birth;
No longer live a helpless slave,
The meanest thing on earth!"
THE CONTRAST.
They scorned her for her sinning,
Spoke harshly of her fall,
Nor lent the hand of mercy
To break her hated thrall.
Spoke harshly of her fall,
Nor lent the hand of mercy
To break her hated thrall.
The dews of meek repentance
Stood in her downcast eye:
Would no one heed her anguish?
All pass her coldly by?
Stood in her downcast eye:
Would no one heed her anguish?
All pass her coldly by?
From the cold, averted glances
Of each reproachful eye,
Of each reproachful eye,
