The Runaway Slave at Pilgrims Point

类别:文学名著 作者:伊丽莎白·巴雷特·勃朗宁 本章:The Runaway Slave at Pilgrims Point

    I.

    I stand on the shore

    Of t we pilgrims bended knee,

    urned to ancestor,

    And God y.

    I , my skin is as dark,

    I bend my knee dohis mark . . .

    I look on the sea.

    II.

    O pilgrim-souls, I speak to you!

    I see you come out proud and slow

    From ts pale as dew. . .

    And round me and round me ye go!

    O pilgrims, I have gasped and run

    All nighe whips of one

    ho in your names works sin and woe.

    III.

    And t t I would come

    And kneel  before,

    And feel your souls around me hum

    In undertone to the oceans roar;

    And lift my black face, my black hand,

    o curse this land

    Ye blessed in freedoms evermore.

    IV.

    I am black, I am black;

    And yet God made me, they say.

    But if he did so, smiling back

    his work away

    Under t of e creatures,

    it tures

    Migrodden again to clay.

    V.

    And yet hings

    to be glad and merry as light.

    ttle dark bird sits and sings;

    tream ripples out of sight;

    And t in the safe morass,

    And test stars are made to pass

    Oer t night.

    VI.

    But we who are dark, we are dark!

    Aars!

    About our souls in care and cark

    Our blackness ss like prison bars:

    the poor souls crouch so far behind,

    t never a comfort can they find

    By reache prison-bars.

    VII.

    Indeed, he sky, . . .

    t great smootretc

    On all herly,

    to bless t,

    his low place,

    All opened straigo his face

    Into ternity.

    VIII.

    And still Gods suns,

    t, they make us cold,

    As if  black and lost:

    And ts and birds, in wood and fold,

    Do fear and take us for very men!

    Could t of the glen

    Look into my eyes and be bold?

    IX.

    I am black, I am black!--

    But, once, I laughed in girlish glee;

    For one of my colour stood in track

    me--

    And tender and full he look he gave:

    Could a slave look so at another slave?--

    I look at the sea.

    X.

    And from t s grew

    As free as if unsold, unbought:

    Orong enougwo

    to conquer t!

    the drivers drove us day by day;

    e did not mind,  one way,

    And no better a liberty sought.

    XI.

    In the canes,

    ;I love youquot; as he passed:

    he rains,

    I  fast:

    As ,

    the hurricanes.

    XII.

    I sang ead of a song;

    Over and over I sang his name--

    Up along

    My various notes; the same!

    I sang it lo the slave-girls near

    Mig they could hear,

    It was only a name.

    XIII.

    I look on the sea--

    e o love, and to pray,--

    Yes, thee,

    t thou say.

    Coldly tst behe sun!

    And now I cry w one,

    to-day?--

    XIV.

    e were black, we were black!

    e o love and bliss:

    marvel, if eacurned to lack?

    t of his,--

    to touch

    ! . . . not much,

    Ye pilgrim-souls, . . . this!

    XV.

    rong, followed by a deeper wrong!

    Mere griefs too good for such as I.

    So te men broughe shame ere long

    to strangle the sob of my agony.

    t leave me for my dull

    et eyes!--it oo merciful

    to let me ears and die.

    XVI.

    I am black, I am black!--

    I wore a c

    An amulet t oo slack,

    And, in my unrest, could not rest:

    t moaning, cher,

    One to anoto another,

    Until all ended for t:

    XVII.

    For ell you low . . . Iow . . .

    I am black, you see,--

    And the babe who lay on my bosom so,

    as far too oo we for me;

    As o pray

    Beside me at c yesterday;

    tears had washed a place for my knee.

    XVIII.

    My own, own c bear

    to look in  was so we.

    I covered here;

    I covered ight:

    And ruggled, as  be,

    For te ced y--

    ed er right.

    XIX.

    ,

    tle feet t never grew--

    ruck t, as it ,

    Against my  to break it through.

    I might have sung and made him mild--

    But I dared not sing to te-faced child

    the only song I knew.

    XX.

    I pulled the kerchief very close:

    see the sun, I swear,

    More, than now he does

    From bets of the mango . . . where

    . . . I know wher

    Do o look at one another,

    hen one is black and one is fair.

    XXI.

    single glance I had

    Of my cell you all,

    I sa made me mad . . .

    ters look, t used to fall

    On my soul like his lash . . . or worse!

    And so, to save it from my curse,

    I ted it round in my shawl.

    XXII.

    And rembled from foot to head,

    o foot;

    till, after a time, ead

    too suddenly still and mute.

    I felt, beside, a stiffening cold, . . .

    I dared to lift up just a fold . . .

    As in lifting a leaf of t.

    XXIII.

    But my fruit . . . here, had been

    (I laugo t at this hour! . . .)

    Your fine we angels, who have seen

    Nearest t of Gods power, . . .

    And plucked my fruit to make them wine,

    And sucked t child of mine,

    As the flower.

    XXIV.

    rick of te!

    te c so.

    I said not a , day and night,

    I carried to and fro;

    And it lay on my  like a stone . . . as chill.

    --t as much as he will:

    I am cold, t h ago.

    XXV.

    From te mans ,

    I carried ttle body on,

    ts arms did round us s,

    And silence trees did run:

    tion as I ,--

    tood too onis,--

    t on hrone.

    XXVI.

    My little body, kerc,

    I bore it on t . . . on:

    And  ired at last,

    I scooped a he moon.

    t-tops the angels far,

    ite sar,

    Did point and mock at w was done.

    XXVII.

    Yet , . . .

    Eart me and my baby, strewed,

    All, co black earte, . . .

    A dark che dark,--ensued

    Some comfort, and my  grew young:

    I sate dohere and sung

    t in my maidenhood.

    XXVIII.

    And two were reconciled,

    te chus:

    For, as I sang it, soft and wild

    the same song, more melodious,

    Rose from te!

    It ,

    to join th of us.

    XXIX.

    I look on the sky!

    anchored lay,

    th gloriously;

    But ts have slid away

    t streaks of the morn.

    My face is black, but it glares h a scorn

    meet by day.

    XXX.

    Aead, ter sons!

    A in a ring--

    Keep off! I brave you all at once--

    I t sting!

    You  nest, I think:

    Did you never stand still in your triumph, and shrink

    From troke of her wounded wing?

    XXXI.

    (Man, drop t stone you dared to lift!--)

    I ,

    Eac,

    A little corpse as safely at rest

    As mine in t she

    May keep live babies on her knee,

    And sing t.

    XXXll.

    I am not mad: I am black.

    I see you staring in my face--

    I knoaring, shrinking back--

    Ye are born of ton-race:

    And the free America:

    And t . . . (I prove w I say)

    Ropes tied me up o the flogging-place.

    XXXIII.

    You t a sound!

    I he sun.

    I only cursed them all around,

    As softly as I might have done

    My very own chese sands

    Up to tains, lift your hands,

    O slaves, and end w I begun!

    XXXIV.

    anshose!

    For in t

    two kinds of men in adverse rows,

    Eac

    ts body fair;

    hile hE sees gaping everywhere

    Our countless  pay no debt.

    XXXV.

    Our . Your we men

    Are, after all, not gods indeed,

    Nor able to make Cs again

    Do good h bleeding. e who bleed . . .

    (Stand off!) we  in our loss!

    e are too heavy for our cross,

    And fall and crush you and your seed.

    XXXVI.

    I fall, I s the sky:

    the clouds are breaking on my brain;

    I am floated along, as if I should die

    Of libertys exquisite pain--

    In te cing for me

    In th-dark where we may kiss and agree,

    e men, I leave you all curse-free

    In my broken s disdain!


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