Air -- "O Susannah"
Adapted to the case of Mr S., Fugitive from Tennesse.
I'm on my way to Canada,
That cold and dreary land;
The dire effects of slavery,
I can no longer stand.
My soul is vexed within me so,
To think that I'm a slave;
I've now resolved to strike the blow
For freedom or the grave.
O righteous Father,
Wilt thou not pity me?
And aid me on to Canada,
Where colored men are free.
I heard Victoria plainly say,
If we could all forsake
Our native land of slavery,
And come across the Lake.
That she was standing on the shore,
With arms extended wide,
To give us all a peaceful home,
Beyond the rolling tide.
Farewell, old master!
That's Enough for me --
I'm going straight to Canada,
Where colored men are free.
Joshua McCarter Simpson (1820? - 1876)
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
George Moses Horton, Myself
George Moses Horton, Myself
I feel myself in need
Of the inspiring strains of ancient lore,
My heart to lift, my empty mind to feed,
And all the world explore.
I know that I am old
And never can recover what is past,
But for the future may some light unfold
And soar from ages blast.
I feel resolved to try,
My wish to prove, my calling to pursue,
Or mount up from the earth into the sky,
To show what Heaven can do.
My genius from a boy,
Has fluttered like a bird within my heart;
But could not thus confined her powers employ,
Impatient to depart.
She like a restless bird,
Would spread her wings, her power to be unfurl'd
And let her songs be loudly heard,
And dart from world to world
George Moses Horton
I think he was a love poet, and when he was in love he loved hard and fast - never letting his woman go but, in a good way you know? Who do you think George Moses Horton was?
I feel myself in need
Of the inspiring strains of ancient lore,
My heart to lift, my empty mind to feed,
And all the world explore.
I know that I am old
And never can recover what is past,
But for the future may some light unfold
And soar from ages blast.
I feel resolved to try,
My wish to prove, my calling to pursue,
Or mount up from the earth into the sky,
To show what Heaven can do.
My genius from a boy,
Has fluttered like a bird within my heart;
But could not thus confined her powers employ,
Impatient to depart.
She like a restless bird,
Would spread her wings, her power to be unfurl'd
And let her songs be loudly heard,
And dart from world to world
George Moses Horton
I think he was a love poet, and when he was in love he loved hard and fast - never letting his woman go but, in a good way you know? Who do you think George Moses Horton was?
Just making sure your listening
Hello to all my viewers! I'm sorry that I haven't been posting everyday as promised, but I've been really discouraged lately. I mean, I've gotten little to no likes on facebook and not at all as many views as I hoped to have on here. But, you know what I will not quit, and since I won't quit will you promise not to quit as well?
Signed,
Ashanti Waybriel
Signed,
Ashanti Waybriel
Monday, August 13, 2012
Poem #6: Imploring to be Resigned at Death
Imploring to be Resigned at Death
Let me die and not tremble at death,
But smile at the close of my day,
And then at the flight of my breath,
Like a bird of the morning in May,
Go chanting away.
Let me die without fear of the dead,
No horrors my soul shall dismay,
And with faith's pillow under my head,
With defiance to mortal decay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die like a son of the brave,
And martial distinction display;
Nor shrink from a thought of the grave,
No, but with a smile from the clay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die glad, regardless of pain,
No pang to this world betray,
And the spirit cut loose from its chains,
So loath in the flesh to decay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die, and my worst foe forgive,
When death veils the last vital ray;
Since I have but a moment to live,
Let me, when the last debt I pay,
Go chanting away.
George Moses Horton
The George Moses Horton Project was founded in January 2000 as a special program of the Chatham County Arts Council, in partnership with the Horton Middle School and the Chatham County Black Historical Society. Its mission is to spark the creative spirit in Chatham students and citizens, and to honor local history, focusing on the life and work of George Moses Horton as a hero of literacy and expression.
Project, Horton. "George Moses Horton Project." George Moses Horton Project. George Moses Horton Project, 07 Aug. 2012. Web. 13 Aug. 2012. <http://chathamarts.org/horton/>.
Sherman, Joan R. "George Moses Horton." African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 1997. 4-5. Print.
Let me die and not tremble at death,
But smile at the close of my day,
And then at the flight of my breath,
Like a bird of the morning in May,
Go chanting away.
Let me die without fear of the dead,
No horrors my soul shall dismay,
And with faith's pillow under my head,
With defiance to mortal decay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die like a son of the brave,
And martial distinction display;
Nor shrink from a thought of the grave,
No, but with a smile from the clay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die glad, regardless of pain,
No pang to this world betray,
And the spirit cut loose from its chains,
So loath in the flesh to decay,
Go chanting away.
Let me die, and my worst foe forgive,
When death veils the last vital ray;
Since I have but a moment to live,
Let me, when the last debt I pay,
Go chanting away.
George Moses Horton
The George Moses Horton Project was founded in January 2000 as a special program of the Chatham County Arts Council, in partnership with the Horton Middle School and the Chatham County Black Historical Society. Its mission is to spark the creative spirit in Chatham students and citizens, and to honor local history, focusing on the life and work of George Moses Horton as a hero of literacy and expression.
Project, Horton. "George Moses Horton Project." George Moses Horton Project. George Moses Horton Project, 07 Aug. 2012. Web. 13 Aug. 2012. <http://chathamarts.org/horton/>.
Sherman, Joan R. "George Moses Horton." African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 1997. 4-5. Print.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Poem #5: Troubled With the Itch and Rubbing With Sulpher
Troubled With the Itch and Rubbing With Sulpher
'Tis Bitter, yet 'tis sweet
Scratching effects but transient ease;
Pleasure and pain together meet
And vanish as they please.
My nails, the only balm,
To every bump are oft applied,
And thus the rage will sweetly calm
Which aggravates my hide.
It soon returns again:
A frown succeeds to every smile;
Grinning I scratch and curse the pain
But grieve to be so vile.
In fine, I know not which
Can play the most deceitful game:
The devil, sulphur, or the itch.
The three are but the same.
Excoriated deep,
By friction played on every part,
It oft deprives me of my sleep
And plagues me to my heart.
George Moses Horton
Declared the Historic Poet Laureate of Chatham County, Horton was born a slave on William Horton's tobacco plantation in 1798. He taught himself to read, though it was forbidden for slaves, and composed and performed poetry about the rural landscape, Civil War politics, and his harsh experiences under slavery. Horton holds the distinction of being the first African American to publish a book, and the only to publish while living in slavery.
"Poetry Landmark: George Moses Horton's Hometown in Chatham County, NC."Www.Poets.org. Ed. Academy American Poets. Academy of American Poets, 07 Aug. 1997. Web. 08 Aug. 2012. <http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/5756>.
Horton, George M. "George Moses Horton." African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927. By Joan R. Sherman. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 1997. 4. Print.
'Tis Bitter, yet 'tis sweet
Scratching effects but transient ease;
Pleasure and pain together meet
And vanish as they please.
My nails, the only balm,
To every bump are oft applied,
And thus the rage will sweetly calm
Which aggravates my hide.
It soon returns again:
A frown succeeds to every smile;
Grinning I scratch and curse the pain
But grieve to be so vile.
In fine, I know not which
Can play the most deceitful game:
The devil, sulphur, or the itch.
The three are but the same.
The devil sows the itch,
And slupher has a loathsome smell,
And with my clothes as black as pitch
I stink where'er I dwell
Excoriated deep,
By friction played on every part,
It oft deprives me of my sleep
And plagues me to my heart.
George Moses Horton
Declared the Historic Poet Laureate of Chatham County, Horton was born a slave on William Horton's tobacco plantation in 1798. He taught himself to read, though it was forbidden for slaves, and composed and performed poetry about the rural landscape, Civil War politics, and his harsh experiences under slavery. Horton holds the distinction of being the first African American to publish a book, and the only to publish while living in slavery.
"Poetry Landmark: George Moses Horton's Hometown in Chatham County, NC."Www.Poets.org. Ed. Academy American Poets. Academy of American Poets, 07 Aug. 1997. Web. 08 Aug. 2012. <http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/5756>.
Horton, George M. "George Moses Horton." African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927. By Joan R. Sherman. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 1997. 4. Print.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Poem #4: Early Affection
Early Affection
I lov'd thee from the earliest dawn,
When first I saw thy beauty's ray,
And will, until life's eve comes on,
And beauty's blossom fades away;
And when all things go well with thee,
With smiles and tears remember me.
I'll love thee when thy morn is past
And wheedling gallantry is o'er,
When youth is lost in ages blast,
And when life's journey ends with thee,
O, then look back and think of me.
I'll love thee with a smile or frown,
'Mid sorrow's gloom or pleasure's light,
And when the chain of life runs down,
Pursue thy last eternal flight,
When thou hast spread thy wing to flee,
Still, still, a moment wait for me.
I'll love thee for those sparkling eyes,
To which my fondness was betray'd
Bearing the tincture of the skies,
To glow when other beauties fade,
And when they sink too low to see,
Reflect an azure beam on me.
George Moses Horton
Horton's last years were spent in Philadelphia writing Sunday's school stories and working for old North Carolina friends who lived in the city. Details of his death are unrecorded. Through Horton's unhappy marriage to a slave of Franklin Snipes, he was the father of a son Free and a daughter Rhody, both of whom bore their mother's name.
Powell, William S. "The University of North Carolina Press." UNC Press. William S. Powell, 07 Aug. 2012. Web. 07 Aug. 2012. <http://www.uncpress.unc.edu/>.
Horton, George M. "George Moses Horton." African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927. By Joan R. Sherman. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 1997. 3-4. Print.
I lov'd thee from the earliest dawn,
When first I saw thy beauty's ray,
And will, until life's eve comes on,
And beauty's blossom fades away;
And when all things go well with thee,
With smiles and tears remember me.
I'll love thee when thy morn is past
And wheedling gallantry is o'er,
When youth is lost in ages blast,
And when life's journey ends with thee,
O, then look back and think of me.
I'll love thee with a smile or frown,
'Mid sorrow's gloom or pleasure's light,
And when the chain of life runs down,
Pursue thy last eternal flight,
When thou hast spread thy wing to flee,
Still, still, a moment wait for me.
I'll love thee for those sparkling eyes,
To which my fondness was betray'd
Bearing the tincture of the skies,
To glow when other beauties fade,
And when they sink too low to see,
Reflect an azure beam on me.
George Moses Horton
Horton's last years were spent in Philadelphia writing Sunday's school stories and working for old North Carolina friends who lived in the city. Details of his death are unrecorded. Through Horton's unhappy marriage to a slave of Franklin Snipes, he was the father of a son Free and a daughter Rhody, both of whom bore their mother's name.
Powell, William S. "The University of North Carolina Press." UNC Press. William S. Powell, 07 Aug. 2012. Web. 07 Aug. 2012. <http://www.uncpress.unc.edu/>.
Horton, George M. "George Moses Horton." African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927. By Joan R. Sherman. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 1997. 3-4. Print.
Monday, August 6, 2012
Poem #3: Liberty and Slavery
Liberty and Slavery
Alas! and am I born for this,
To wear this slavish chain?
Deprived of all created bliss,
Though hardship, toil and pain!
How long have I in bondage lain,
And languished to be free!
Alas! and must I still complain --
Deprived of liberty.
Oh, Heaven! and is there no relief
This side the silent grave --
To soothe the pain - to quell the grief
And anguish of a slave?
Say unto foul oppression, Cease:
Ye tyrants rage no more,
And let the joyful trump of peace,
Now bid the vassal soar.
Soar on the pinions of that dove
Which long has cooed for thee,
And breathed her notes from Afric's grove,
The sound of Liberty.
Oh, Liberty! thou golden prize,
So often sought by blood --
We crave thy sacred sun to rise,
The gift of nature's God!
Bid Slavery hide her haggard face,
And barbarism fly:
I scorn to see the sad disgrace
In which enslaved I lie.
Dear Liberty! upon thy breast,
I languish to respire;
And like the Swan unto her nest,
I'd to thy smiles retire.
Oh, blest asylum -- heavenly balm!
Unto thy boughs I flee --
And in thy shades the storm shall calm,
With songs of Liberty!
George Moses Horton (1797? - 1883)
A slave in North Carolina for 66 years, Horton published 150 poems in three volumes for 1829 1865. His subjects include his bondage, love, religion, nature, the art of poetry and the Civil War. Fun Fact: George taught himself how to read with and old speller and a copy of the Methodist hymnal. Want another? He always had a love for poetry and began composing psalm - meter verses in his head.
Horton, George M. "George Moses Horton." African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927. By Joan R. Sherman. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 1997. 2-3. Print.
Alas! and am I born for this,
To wear this slavish chain?
Deprived of all created bliss,
Though hardship, toil and pain!
How long have I in bondage lain,
And languished to be free!
Alas! and must I still complain --
Deprived of liberty.
Oh, Heaven! and is there no relief
This side the silent grave --
To soothe the pain - to quell the grief
And anguish of a slave?
Say unto foul oppression, Cease:
Ye tyrants rage no more,
And let the joyful trump of peace,
Now bid the vassal soar.
Soar on the pinions of that dove
Which long has cooed for thee,
And breathed her notes from Afric's grove,
The sound of Liberty.
Oh, Liberty! thou golden prize,
So often sought by blood --
We crave thy sacred sun to rise,
The gift of nature's God!
Bid Slavery hide her haggard face,
And barbarism fly:
I scorn to see the sad disgrace
In which enslaved I lie.
Dear Liberty! upon thy breast,
I languish to respire;
And like the Swan unto her nest,
I'd to thy smiles retire.
Oh, blest asylum -- heavenly balm!
Unto thy boughs I flee --
And in thy shades the storm shall calm,
With songs of Liberty!
George Moses Horton (1797? - 1883)
A slave in North Carolina for 66 years, Horton published 150 poems in three volumes for 1829 1865. His subjects include his bondage, love, religion, nature, the art of poetry and the Civil War. Fun Fact: George taught himself how to read with and old speller and a copy of the Methodist hymnal. Want another? He always had a love for poetry and began composing psalm - meter verses in his head.
Horton, George M. "George Moses Horton." African-American Poetry: An Anthology, 1773-1927. By Joan R. Sherman. Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 1997. 2-3. Print.
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