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13.2: The Farewell (1838) By John Greenleaf Whittier

  • Page ID
    196452
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    John Greenleaf Whittier

    Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern Bondage

     

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone.

    Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings

    Where the noisome insect stings

    Where the fever demon strews

    Poison with the falling dews

    Where the sickly sunbeams glare

    Through the hot and misty air;

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone,

    From Virginia’s hills and waters;

    Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

     

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone

    There no mother’s eye is near them,

    There no mother’s ear can hear them;

    Never, when the torturing lash

    Seams their back with many a gash

    Shall a mother’s kindness bless them

    Or a mother’s arms caress them.

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone,

    From Virginia’s hills and waters;

    Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

     

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone,

    Oh, when weary, sad, and slow,

    From the fields at night they go

    Faint with toil, and racked with pain

    To their cheerless homes again,

    There no brother’s voice shall greet them

    There no father’s welcome meet them.

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone,

    From Virginia’s hills and waters;

    Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

     

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone

    From the tree whose shadow lay

    On their childhood’s place of play;

    From the cool sprmg where they drank;

    Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank;

    From the solemn house of prayer,

    And the holy counsels there;

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone,

    From Virginia’s hills and waters;

    Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

     

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone;

    Toiling through the weary day,

    And at night the spoiler’s prey.

    Oh, that they had earlier died,

    Sleeping calmly, side by side,

    Where the tyrant’s power is o’er

    And the fetter galls no more!

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone;

    From Virginia’s hills and waters

    Woe is me, my stolen daughters!

     

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone;

    By the holy love He beareth;

    By the bruised reed He spareth;

    Oh, may He, to whom alone

    All their cruel wrongs are known,

    Still their hope and refuge prove,

    With a more than mother’s love.

    Gone, gone,—sold and gone,

    To the rice-swamp dank and lone,

    From Virginia’s hills and waters;


    Source:

    Becoming America, Wendy Kurant, ed., CC-BY-SA


    13.2: The Farewell (1838) By John Greenleaf Whittier is shared under a not declared license and was authored, remixed, and/or curated by LibreTexts.

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