George Moses Horton
George Moses Horton Poems
The Slave's Complaint
Am I sadly cast aside,
On misfortune's rugged tide?
Will the world my pains deride
Must I dwell in Slavery's night,
And all pleasure take its flight,
Far beyond my feeble sight,
Worst of all, must Hope grow dim,
And withhold her cheering beam?
Rather let me sleep and dream
Something still my heart surveys,
Groping through this dreary maze;
Is it Hope? -- then burn and blaze
Leave me not a wretch confined,
Altogether lame and blind ...
A Billet Doux
My brightest hopes are mix'd with tears,
Like hues of light and gloom;
As when mid sun-shine rain appears,
Love rises with a thousand fears,
To pine and still to bloom.
When I have told my last fond tale
In lines of song to thee,
And for departure spread my sail,