Cold blows the wind, and while the tear Bursts trembling from my swollen eyes,
The rain's big drop, quick meets it there, And on my naked bosom flies
O pity, all ye sons of Joy, The little wand'ring Negro-boy
These tatter'd clothes,...
I
Dark was the dawn, and o'er the deep The boist'rous whirlwinds blew;
The Sea-bird wheel'd its circling sweep, And all was drear to view—When on the beach that binds the western
The love-lorn
Ah
the poor little blackamoor, see there he goes,
And the blood gushes out from his half frozen toes,
And his legs are so thin you may see the very bones,
Children,
I come back
To tell you a story of the long dark
That I had to climb, that I had to
I've known rivers:
I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.
My soul has grown deep like the rivers.