Page:The black man - his antecedents, his genius, and his achievements (IA blackmanantecede00browrich).pdf/205

It bade my weary, troubled soul
  Her sad complainings cease.

For bitter thoughts had filled my breast,
  And sad, and sick at heart,
I longed to lay me down and rest,
  From all the world apart.
"Outcast, oppressed on earth," I cried,
  O Father, take me home;
O, take me to that peaceful land
  Beyond the moon-lit dome.

"On such a night as this," methought,
  "Angelic forms are near;
In beauty unrevealed to us
  They hover in the air.
O mother, loved and lost," I cried,
  "Methinks thou'rt near me now;
Methinks I feel thy cooling touch
  Upon my burning brow.

"O, guide and soothe thy sorrowing child;
  And if 'tis not His will
That thou shouldst take me home with thee,
  Protect and bless me still;
For dark and drear had been my life
  Without thy tender smile,
Without a mother's loving care,
  Each sorrow to beguile."

I ceased: then o'er my senses stole
  A soothing, dreamy spell,
And gently to my ear were borne
  The tones I loved so well;