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VOICES OF FREEDOM.
FROM 1833 TO 1848.
Al motionless and dewy wet,
TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE.32 Twas night. The tranquil moonlight smile
With which Heaven dreams of Earth, shed down Its beauty on the Indian isle
On broad green field and white-walled town;
Yes-lovely was thine aspect, then,
Fair island of the Western Sea!
For they, at least, were free!
Unmindful of thy soil of flowers,
No faster sped his hours.
The quenching of the immortal mind-
Around, beneath, above ;The wild beast from his cavern sprang
The wild bird from her grove! Nor fear, nor joy, nor agony Were mingled in that midnight cry; But like the lion's growl of wrath, When falls that hunter in his path, Whose barbed arrow, deeply set, Is rankling in his bosom yet, It told of hate, full, deep, and strong, Of vengeance kindling out of wrong; It was as if the crimes of years,
The unrequited toil—the tears—
Pealed to the skies that frantic yell-
And flashes rose and fell;
Trode, fierce and free, the brute he made •
With more than spaniel dreadThe creatures of his lawless beckWere trampling on his very neck! And on the night-air, wild and clear, Rose woman's shriek of more than fear; For bloodied arms were round her thrown, And dark cheeks pressed against her own! Then, injured Afric!—for the shame Of thy own daughters, vengeance came Full on the scornful hearts of those, Who mocked thee in thy nameless woes, and to thy hapless children gave Ine choice-pollution, or the grave !