Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Frances Ellen Watkins Harper Poems
Comments about Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Yes, Ethiopia yet shall stretch
Her bleeding hands abroad;
Her cry of agony shall reach
The burning throne of God.
The tyrant's yoke from off her neck,
His fetters from her soul,
The mighty hand of God shall break
And spurn the base control.
Redeemed from dust, and freed from chains,
Her sons shall lift their eyes;
From lofty hills and verdant plains
Shall shouts of triumph rise.
Upon the dark, despairing brow
Shall play a smile of peace;
For God shall bend unto her woe,
And bid her sorrows cease.
'Neath sheltering vines and ...
I remember, well remember,
That dark and dreadful day,
When they whispered to me, "Chloe,
Your children's sold away!" 1.
It seemed as if a bullet