Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

(24 September 1825 – 22 February 1911 / Baltimore, Maryland)

Frances Ellen Watkins Harper Poems

41. Vashti 1/3/2003
42. Henry Clay 4/17/2010
43. Songs For The People 1/3/2003
44. A Story Of The Rebellion 4/17/2010
45. The Drunkard's Child 1/3/2003
46. The Night Of Death 1/3/2003
47. The Hermit's Sacrifice 1/3/2003
48. Sir, We Would See Jesus 4/17/2010
49. Moses: A Story Of The Nile (Extract) 4/17/2010
50. The Dying Bondman 1/3/2003
51. The Building 1/3/2003
52. The Dying Queen 1/3/2003
53. Bible Defense Of Slavery 3/27/2012
54. I'M Tired Of Life 4/17/2010
55. President Lincoln's Proclamation Of Freedom 4/17/2010
56. Go Work In My Vineyard 1/3/2003
57. Dandelions 1/3/2003
58. A Little Child Shall Lead Them 1/3/2003
59. Ellen 4/17/2010
60. Dark-Browed Martha 4/17/2010
61. An Appeal To My Countywomen 1/3/2003
62. Church Building 4/17/2010
63. The Crocuses 4/17/2010
64. Burial Of Sarah 1/3/2003
65. I Thirst 1/3/2003
66. Ethiopia 4/17/2010
67. Fishers Of Men 1/3/2003
68. Learning To Read 4/17/2010
69. Thank God For Little Children 1/3/2003
70. Aunt Chloe's Politics 4/17/2010
71. The Slave Mother 1/3/2003
72. Death Of The Old Sea King 1/3/2003
73. God Bless Our Native Land 1/3/2003
74. Let The Light Enter 1/3/2003
75. Home, Sweet Home 1/3/2003
76. Mother's Treasures 1/3/2003
77. A Double Standard 4/17/2010
78. A Grain Of Sand 4/17/2010
79. Aunt Chloe 1/1/2004
80. Bury Me In A Free Land 1/3/2003

Comments about Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

  • angel anderson (3/13/2018 12:50:00 PM)

    awsome even though i haven't read it yet.\

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Best Poem of Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

Bury Me In A Free Land

Make me a grave where'er you will,
In a lowly plain, or a lofty hill;
Make it among earth's humblest graves,
But not in a land where men are slaves.

I could not rest if around my grave
I heard the steps of a trembling slave;
His shadow above my silent tomb
Would make it a place of fearful gloom.

I could not rest if I heard the tread
Of a coffle gang to the shambles led,
And the mother's shriek of wild despair
Rise like a curse on the trembling air.

I could not sleep if I saw the lash
Drinking her blood at each fearful gash,
And I saw her ...

Read the full of Bury Me In A Free Land

Out In The Cold

Out in the cold mid the dreary night,
Under the eaves of homes so bright:
Snowflakes falling o'er mother's grave
Will no one rescue, no one save?

A child left out in the dark and cold,
A lamb not sheltered in any fold,
Hearing the wolves of hunger bark,
Out in the cold! and out in the dark

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