To The Ladies' Free Produce Society (Poem)
Dublin Core
Title
To The Ladies' Free Produce Society (Poem)
Description
These lines were addressed to the Ladies' *' Free Produce Society, of Philadelphia," a short time previous to one of its stated meetings, after the author had removed from the city.
Your gathering day ! and I am not,
As erst, amid you set ;
But even from this distant spot,
My thoughts are with you yet.
As freshly as in hours forgot,
When I was with you met.
His blessing on your high career !
Go, press unwearied on.
From month to month, from year to year,
Till when your task is done.
The franchised negro's grateful tear
Proclaims your victory won.
Oh faint you not, ye gathered band !
Although your way be long,
And they who ranged against you stand,
Are numberless and strong ;
While you but bear a feeble hand,
Unused to cope with wrong.
Upon your injured brother look.
And nerve ye with the sight !
Could you the good, the gentle, brook
To wear your days in light.
Regardless that by sorrow struck,
He pines in rayless night ?
Oh surely 'tis a blessed fate,
A lot like that ye bear —
To bid the crush'd and desolate.
Not yield them to despair.
For even amidst their low estate.
Some hearts their sufferings share.
And never your high task forget,
Till they are chainless — free !
Alas ! that ye should be so met,
And I not with you be ;
Yet sometimes when you thus are set,
One heart may turn to me.
Your gathering day ! and I am not,
As erst, amid you set ;
But even from this distant spot,
My thoughts are with you yet.
As freshly as in hours forgot,
When I was with you met.
His blessing on your high career !
Go, press unwearied on.
From month to month, from year to year,
Till when your task is done.
The franchised negro's grateful tear
Proclaims your victory won.
Oh faint you not, ye gathered band !
Although your way be long,
And they who ranged against you stand,
Are numberless and strong ;
While you but bear a feeble hand,
Unused to cope with wrong.
Upon your injured brother look.
And nerve ye with the sight !
Could you the good, the gentle, brook
To wear your days in light.
Regardless that by sorrow struck,
He pines in rayless night ?
Oh surely 'tis a blessed fate,
A lot like that ye bear —
To bid the crush'd and desolate.
Not yield them to despair.
For even amidst their low estate.
Some hearts their sufferings share.
And never your high task forget,
Till they are chainless — free !
Alas ! that ye should be so met,
And I not with you be ;
Yet sometimes when you thus are set,
One heart may turn to me.
Creator
Elizabeth Margaret Chandler
Source
The poetical works of Elizabeth Margaret Chandler: with a memoir of her life and character
Publisher
Lemuel Howell
Date
1836
Collection
Citation
Elizabeth Margaret Chandler, “To The Ladies' Free Produce Society (Poem),” No Stain of Tears and Blood, accessed September 11, 2024, http://productsoffreelabor.com/items/show/55.
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