III
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:
