A Poem On The Fugitive Slave Law Poem by Elymas Payson Rogers

Law! what is law? The wise and sage,
Of every clime and every age,
In this most cordially unite,
That 'tis a rule for doing right.

Great Blackstone, that illustrious sire,
Whose commentaries all admire,
And Witherspoon, and Cicero,
And all distinguished jurists show
That law is but the power supreme
To shield, to nurture, or redeem
Those rights so sacred, which belong
To man; and to prohibit wrong.
But definitions more concise,
Than any framed by man's device,
The conscientious patriot draws
From the Eternal code of laws;
From which he clearly understands
That God's immutable commands
Are law throughout the universe,
Which human edicts can't reverse.
All human laws must therefore be,
Founded alone on God's decree:
Which firm decree in every case
Must constitute their only base.
God's laws are suns supremely bright;
Man's laws should but reflect their light.

Such heaven-born laws can none despise;
They with man's nature harmonize;
Deep in his being they are traced
And cannot therefore be erased
By any crude and finite hand;
And, consequently, there must stand,
Without the slightest diminution,
Engraven on man's constitution.
With them the good will be content,
To them the lawless will consent
And will pronounce them just and good,
When by them fully understood.
Such laws men must not disobey,
But bow beneath their sovereign sway,
For they are not from man alone
But edicts from the Eternal Throne.
Though drawn and penned in human mode,
They're copied from Jehovah's code;
And he, who disobeys the same,
Denies Jehovah's righteous claim
Upon himself, and all that's his,
And falls beneath his penalties.

But, all those forms of legislation,
Approved and sealed by any nation
'Neath which man's rights are not enjoyed,
Are justly counted null and void.

That legislative act which stands
Opposed to Deity's commands,
Which does not with his word accord
And is not a “Thus saith the Lord,”
Has absolutely no foundation,
And is but wanton usurpation.
To law such mock'ry has no claim
Though baptized by that sacred name;
It is a monster in disguise,
A devil in an angel's guise.
Shall any man then bow the knee
To such a law, or, law would be?
Shall he from them his maxims draw
Instead of Heaven's eternal law?
Shall he proud man's commandments heed
And spurn what Wisdom has decreed?
No! surely, no! God's law must stand:
Immutable is his command;
Nor must the same be rendered void
Though heaven and earth should be destroyed.

In fifty, Congress passed a Bill,
Which proved a crude and bitter pill
At least in many a northern mouth,
Though sweet as honey at the South.

It was the object of this Act
(By priests and politicians backed)
That masters might with ease retake
The wretched slaves who chanced to break
Away from servitude thenceforth,
And sought a refuge at the North.

It was the purpose of this Act
To make the Northern States, in fact,
The brutal master's hunting grounds,
To be explored by human hounds
Who would, for shining gold, again
Bind on the bleeding captive's chain.
This Bill most clearly was designed
To prejudice the public mind
In favor of the master's claim,
Howe'er circuitous or lame.

From officers of baser sort,
The Bill sought sanction and support:
And lawyers bought of no repute
And bribed the dough-faced judge to boot,
It gave encouragement to knaves,
It mocked the suff'rings of the slaves
By giving, if the slave went free,
The judge five dollars as his fee.
But if the judge bound on his chains,
He won ten dollars for his pains.
Go to yon Capitol and look
On this free nation's statute book,
And there you'll find the monstrous Bill
Upon the nation's records still.
And dough-faced politicians now
Their rev'rence for the Act avow,
And hundreds impudently say
That all should peacefully obey
The Act, and yield to its demands,
And give back to the master's hands
The poor, dejected, bleeding slave,
This great Confederacy to save.
We scarce can quench our indignation,
Aroused by such an intimation,
For government should man befit,
And not man sacrifice to it.
And if the Union long has stood
Cemented with the bondsman's blood;
If human hearts and human bone
Are truly its chief corner stone;
If State from State would soon divide
If not with negro sinews tied;
Then let th' accursed Union go,
And let her drift, or, sink below,
Or, let her quick in sunder break
And so become a shattered wreck.

And is that vile requirement just
Which tramples manhood in the dust?
Shall we arrest escaping slaves
At every beck of Southern knaves?
Shall Northern freemen heed a few
Of that untoward apostate crew,
And, let them hunt upon their soil
And drag to unrequited toil
A man, however rude or raw,
Because of that nefarious law
Which causes liberty to bleed,
And gravely sanctions such a deed?
Some call it law; but is it so?
A voice within us answers, no!
It conflicts with the counterpart
Of God's own law in every heart.

Who does not sacred freedom love,
Bequeathed to mortals from above?
Who would not breathe pure freedom's air
And all its kindred blessings share?
Who's so unnatural and so base
As to prefer a bondsman's place?
Not one; for every human breast
Of a free spirit is possessed
Which, incensed, from oppression turns
And direful circumscription spurns;
And, what we love and feign would do,
Our neighbor loves to practise too;
And what we heartitly despise
Is hateful in our neighbor's eyes.
We loathe oppression's iron heel,
His bleeding heart can also feel.

That Bill a law? some call it so,
But One above us answers, “No:
It conflicts with my firm decree;
A law therefore it cannot be.
I tell this nation, as I told
My servants in the days of old,
That none the wand'ring shall perplex,
Or e'er the honest stranger vex:
Deliver not the refugee
Who from his master flees to thee;
He who escapes his master's hand
Shall dwell among you in the land,
And to him ye shall not refuse
The dwelling place which he shall choose.
He shall dwell where he likes it best,
And neither shall he be oppressed.”
But hark! I hear the Saviour say,
“Ne'er from the stranger turn away;
For surely as I ever live,
He is my representative.
And if ye bruise him woe to thee;
For thou hast done the same to me.
Remember that each fiery dart
Ye hurl at him, strikes through my heart;
Take heed, and unto others do
As ye would have them do to you.”

Is that Bill law? hark! from below
The voice of Lucifer cries, “No!
That Bill is a complete gewgaw,
Unworthy of the name of law,
And certainly I ought to know,
'Twas manufactured here below,
And then to leading statesmen sent
Who urged it ‘to the full extent.’
Some think it binding to the letter;
But here in Tophet we know better,
For, we are better lawyers far,
Than half the Philadelphia bar:
The meanest devil can explain
Law more correctly than Judge Kane;
We like the Act, it suits us well;
For, 'tis a measure fresh from hell.”

That Bill a law? the South say so,
But Northern freemen answer, No!
It overthrows our sacred rights,
And sympathetic feeling blights;
It cools the zeal of every heart
That feign would act a generous part
To God's outraged and injured poor,
Or harbor them within the door.

The most compassionate and kind
In gloomy prisons are confined,
If moved by sympathy to give
Assistance to the fugitive
In that most melancholy hour,
When fleeing from the tyrant's power.
And is that law which coolly dares
Forbid what gracious Heaven declares
All men should do for one another,
Especially a helpless brother?
No! 'tis not law, but usurpation,
Which we reject with indignation;
And which for conscience sake we must
Condemn and trample in the dust.

That Bill is law, doughfaces say;
But black men everywhere cry, Nay:
We'll never yield to its control
While life shall animate one soul.
That Bill we ever shall ignore,
And, as we've often done before,
Will tread the measure in the dust,
And ask the world if 'tis not just.

When we behold our flesh and bone
Dragged back to bondage, there to groan
Beneath the huge and bloody lash,
Which there will lacerate their flesh,
Can we endure their doleful moans
And calmly listen to their groans,
As they exclaim for God's sake save
A helpless, wretched, abject slave
From hopeless, though prospective wo,
From heartless, bloody torture too?
No! let the monster be accursed
Who does not then attempt to burst
Their chains, and set the bondsmen free,
And make the heartless tyrant flee.

E'en now I hear each freeman cry,
That human bloodhounds all shall die,
When it is truly necessary
To save some poor defenceless Jerry.

Whene'er the fugitive shall come,
My house shall ever be his home;
And let the worthless wretch beware
Who comes to seize his victim there.
If in his arrogance and pride
My threshhold he shall e'er bestride,
I near to freedom's altar stand,
And lay thereon my solemn hand,
And on that sacred altar swear
His bleeding form shall welter there.

But whence that voice, so soft, so clear,
So musical within my ear?
It says “We'll every power defy
Beneath which helpless women sigh,
And seek to mitigate their grief,
And toil and pray for their relief.
We will for fugitives provide,
We will the trembling outcast hide:
This will we do while we have breath,
Fearless of prisons, chains, or death.”
This voice is from the female band
Who are united heart and hand
With all the truly good and brave,
To aid the poor absconding slave.
Those earthly angels ever hold
An office which appears two-fold.
For they not only act their part
But, like sweet music, cheer the heart
Of those who labor by their side,
If faith, or hope, or zeal, subside.

Will faithful woman then betray
The fugitive, or turn away
From him her true and willing feet,
And thus contemptibly retreat?
To acts so base, man may consent;
But woman is no recreant.

Will any then the Act obey?
Both male and female answer, Nay;
For he who heeds it must withdraw
His reverence for the Higher Law.
Whatever human laws may say
God's law we dare not disobey.

Philanthropists, you've nought to fear;
Take courage, be ye of good cheer:
Advancing onward is your cause
In spite of all oppressive laws.
Ten thousands speak out for the dumb
And thousands more are yet to come,
Until the whole united North
In all her majesty stands forth,
With banners waving o'er her head,
On which their motto may be read,
No more slave laws or territory
To soil our Nation's rising glory.

We've leaders of the royal pith,
Like Seward, Hale, and Gerrit Smith,
Sumner and Wilson, who've no lack
Of bony substance in the back.
Led on by such a fearless band
Securely trusting in God's hand,
Soon slave laws will be obsolete,
And victory will be complete.