Explore "The Slave" by Sarah Louisa Forten Purvis on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Our sires who once in freedom's cause, / Their boasted freedom sought and won, / For deeds of glory gained applause, / When patriot feelings led them on.
And can their sons now speak with pride, / Of rights for which they bled and died --
Or while the captive is oppressed, / Think of the wrongs they once redress'd?
Oh, surely they have quite forgot, / That bondage once had been their lot; / The sweets of freedom now they know, / They care not for the captive's woe.
The poor wronged slave can bear no part / In feelings dearest to his heart; / He cannot speak on freedom's side, / Nor dare he own a freeman's pride, / His soul is dark, ay dark as night, / O'er which is shed no gleam of light; / A cloud of error, doubt and fear, / O'er him is ever hovering near; / And sad and hard his lot must be, / To know that he can ne'er be free; / To feel that his is doomed to be / A life, and death, of slavery.
But will not justice soon arise, / And plead the cause of the despised?
For oh! my country, must it be, / That they still find a foe in thee?