| |
| IN dark fens of the Dismal Swamp | |
| The hunted Negro lay; | |
| He saw the fire of the midnight camp, | |
| And heard at times a horse’s tramp | |
| And a bloodhound’s distant bay. | 5 |
| |
| Where will-o’-the-wisps and glow-worms shine, | |
| In bulrush and in brake; | |
| Where waving mosses shroud the pine, | |
| And the cedar grows, and the poisonous vine | |
| Is spotted like the snake; | 10 |
| |
| Where hardly a human foot could pass, | |
| Or a human heart would dare, | |
| On the quaking turf of the green morass | |
| He crouched in the rank and tangled grass, | |
| Like a wild beast in his lair. | 15 |
| |
| A poor old slave, infirm and lame; | |
| Great scars deformed his face; | |
| On his forehead he bore the brand of shame, | |
| And the rags, that hid his mangled frame, | |
| Were the livery of disgrace. | 20 |
| |
| All things above were bright and fair, | |
| All things were glad and free; | |
| Lithe squirrels darted here and there, | |
| And wild birds filled the echoing air | |
| With songs of Liberty! | 25 |
| |
| On him alone was the doom of pain, | |
| From the morning of his birth; | |
| On him alone the curse of Cain | |
| Fell, like a flail on the garnered grain, | |
| And struck him to the earth! | 30 |
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