SLAVE ELOQUENCE.
Why shouldst thou speak? stand, and lift up thy hands,That bear, before high heaven, a nation's crime,That touch with fire th' electric chain of truth,Left darkly rusting in our careless Time.
Stand, with the burthen of thine ancient lotPoising thy pliant figure, with a smileThat hath a dark and bitter memory in'tOf suffering unavenged—woe worth the while!
Stand, like the prophet's Christ, so grief-possestThat silence shall afflict us more than sound;Express in marble passion, motionless,The anguish of the fratricidal wound.
Thy cause needs no appealing—wrongs like thineNature makes dumb with greatness—do they craveThe lowliness of Pity? from all heartsThou hast it with this thought: here was a Slave.
