Harper, Frances."The Fugitive's Wife."  The Online Archive of Nineteenth-Century Women's Writings. Ed. Glynis Carr. Online. Internet. Posted: Winter 2000. http://www.facstaff.bucknell.edu/gcarr/19cUSWW/FH/TFW.html

The Fugitive's Wife.

It was my sad and weary lot.
To toil in slavery;
But one thing cheered my lowly cot--
My husband was with me.

One evening, as our children played
Around our cabin door,
I noticed on his brow a shade
I'd never seen before;

And in his eyes a gloomy night
Of anguish and despair;--
I gazed upon their troubled light,
To read the meaning there.

He strained me to his heaving heart--
My own beat wild with fear;
I knew not, but I sadly felt
There must be evil near.

He vainly strove to cast aside
The tears that fell like rain:--
Too frail, indeed, is manly pride,
To strive with grief and pain.

Again he clasped me to his breast,
And said that we must part:
I tried to speak--but, oh! it seemed
An arrow reached my heart.

"Bear not," I cried, "unto your grave,
The yoke you've borne from birth;
No longer live a helpless slave,
The meanest thing on earth!"
 
 
By Frances E. W. Harper
From Poems On Miscellaneous Subjects  (1854; 1857)
 

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