| |
| “HELP! oh, help! thou God of Christians! | |
| Save a mother from despair! | |
| Cruel white men steal my children! | |
| God of Christians, hear my prayer! | |
| |
| “From my arms by force they’re rended, | 5 |
| Sailors drag them to the sea; | |
| Yonder ship, at anchor riding, | |
| Swift will carry them away. | |
| |
| “There my son lies, stripp’d, and bleeding; | |
| Fast, with thongs, his hands are bound. | 10 |
| See, the tyrants, how they scourge him! | |
| See his sides a reeking wound | |
| |
| “See his little sister by him; | |
| Quaking, trembling, how she lies! | |
| Drops of blood her face besprinkle; | 15 |
| Tears of anguish fill her eyes. | |
| |
| “Now they tear her brother from her; | |
| Down, below the deck, he’s thrown; | |
| Stiff with beating, through fear silent, | |
| Save a single, death-like, groan.” | 20 |
| |
| Hear the little creature begging!— | |
| “Take me, white men, for your own! | |
| Spare, oh, spare my darling brother! | |
| He ’s my mother’s only son. | |
| |
| “See, upon the shore she’s raving: | 25 |
| Down she falls upon the sands: | |
| Now, she tears her flesh with madness; | |
| Now, she prays with lifted hands. | |
| |
| “I am young, and strong, and hardy; | |
| He ’s a sick, and feeble boy; | 30 |
| Take me, whip me, chain me, starve me, | |
| All my life I ’ll toil with joy. | |
| |
| “Christians! who ’s the God you worship? | |
| Is he cruel, fierce, or good? | |
| Does he take delight in mercy? | 35 |
| Or in spilling human blood? | |
| |
| “Ah, my poor distracted mother! | |
| Hear her scream upon the shore.”— | |
| Down the savage captain struck her, | |
| Lifeless on the vessel’s floor. | 40 |
| |
| Up his sails he quickly hoisted, | |
| To the ocean bent his way; | |
| Headlong plunged the raving mother, | |
| From a high rock, in the sea. | |
| |
