1 10 26 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Rescue of Jerry Description An account of the resource From the Syracuse Journal. THE RESCUE OF JERRY. "Jerry," arrested under the Fugitive Slave Law, October 1st, 1852,--on which day the country Agricultural fair, and also an Anti-slavery convention, were hold at syracuse,--was on the same day reseed, and set at liberty by the people, it was as event not surely of level but of national importance, and will forever redound to the honor of our city and country. The following, from one who sometimes courts the favor of the Muses, is in commemoration of it: Beneath a bright October sun, Had come from far and wide The free and hardy sons of toil, Old Onondaga's pride. The ploughman from the fold was there, The thresher from his floor, Ceased for a time the hammer's stroke, Closed was the smithy door. From farm and factory, forge and fold, From valley and from hill, Where speeds the plow, or plies the Ioom, Or clacks the busy mill; From where upon her many hills The gives her rocky store, Or where from sunken shaft beneath Her briny treasures pour; From busy mart, where thriving trade Its generous profit yield, And from her rural hearths and homes, Whence labor drives afield, Came up to-day, in peaceful show, Strong for the Tree and Right, The people in their majesty, The people in their might. Free labor holds her festival, Where he is honored most, Who honors her in heart and homes— Of all this mighty heat. Free Laborholds her festival, Her gals day has come, And thanks from grateful hearts go up, With songs of harvest house. Abundance crowns a year of tail, And plenty, from her born, Has scattered wide her generous fruits, Her wine, and oil, and corn. But, hark! what sound is that which breaks Discordant on the car? why peals the tocsin bell to-day, This day of all the year? Can here, within this Northern had, This land which freedom gave, Be found a dastard wretch so mean, That he would hunt a slave? Take on his soul the damning curse, Unleash the yelping pack Of bloodhounds snuffing human prey To follow on the track? Too true, alas! for see, in chains A trembling captive stands, The fatters on his swollen limbs, The cords upon hi hands! Upon his face, in deepened lines, Is written wan despair, While heartfelt groans his heaving breast Sends out upon the air. The fear of Federal power prevails, The shameful bribe has won, The threat of Webster is fulfilled, The cruel deed is done! No! not yet done, not yet fulfilled, Not yet th' exultant yell Peals through the vaulted arch of Heaven, "The banner cry of Hell." No hunting-ground for slaves is this,— And murmurs deep and loud Denote the coming storm, which swells, As swells the gathering crowd; And as defiance marks each tone, Stout hearts and hands unite To help a brother in his need, 'Gainst Wrong to shield the Right. The blood-red and of power has l The terror it inspired, The People Liberty have crowned! With freedom they are fired! Till like the angry see, whose waves Break madly on the shore, They dash against his prison walls, Break down his prison door, Strike off the fetters from his limbs, The cords which bind his hands,— A MAN again—no more a <xsl-text></xsl-text>slave<xsl-text></xsl-text>— The rescued JERRY stands! Injustice for a while may flaunt, Wrong seem to hold its away, But Right shall fellow in their path, As follows night the day. God speed the Right! O baste the day When everywhere shall run The precepts of thy Truth and Love, The Gospel of thy Son; When every man in every man A brother he shall see, And all shall in the Royal Law Dwell as one family! Then the bright Sun, upon a world, Which Jesus died to save, "Shall rise upon no bondman, And shall set upon no slave." Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived The Liberator reprinted from The Syracuse Journal Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 12.12.1862 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Description An account of the resource Poetry. For the National Anti-Slavery Standard. J. Oswald Murray's Poem, condemning the ministers of the Free Church of Scotland for accepting the contributions of slaveholders, altered for the candid consideration of all persons who approve of the same, while they purchase and use the products of slave labor. BY HENRY GREW. “So ye will take the vile accursed” thing, “The price of human wrongs and human tears, And then with canting sophistry,” ye sing No “treachery” in “our ears.” “And will ye stretch the hand to Southern lords, Lords of the whip and fetter, and of man;” And give the tempting gold, more choice than words, To soothe them, “if ye can.” “Ye, who so lately struck for Freedom's sake,” And vowed eternal fealty to the cause; Ye are the men who of vile gains partake, “All for a little dross.” “Even Pharisaic hypocrites of old Cast from the Temple's sacred treasury The price of blood, the stained, ill-gotten gold, The cursed Judas fee.” “But ye, the” men “of better, clearer times,” Men “of a church that <xsl-text></xsl-text>calls <xsl-text></xsl-text>itself the Free,” Receive the bloody fruits of “distant climes To share with Slavery.” “Have ye forgot the deep, condign disgrace” Yourselves “have heaped upon the” “oppressor's” “name,” “That ye so willingly assume his place And rush to share his shame?” Forget ye not “the Hero who declared” “Unto the least of these it is to me?” To pay the oppressor for his spoils, ye “dared:” Is this no “treachery?” Now do ye heap on Scotia's priests “disgrace,” Because they took the Southron's impious “gold;” Go then with them and take your <xsl-text></xsl-text>honored <xsl-text></xsl-text>place, Ye bought the spoils he sold. “Lo! in the” garments of your wardrobes, “men Will see the slave's blood with the” cotton “mixed:” On even plate of sweetened luxury “then Shall gory stains be fixed.” “And in the pauses of each” luscious round “The music of his groans shall greet your ears;” And, mingled with your offered thanks, shall sound The “dropping of his tears.” Oh! see thy brother trodden down in wo; Hear “women's shrieks” still quiver Slavery's air; Then tremble, <xsl-text></xsl-text>for the profit you bestow, Is that which keeps them there<xsl-text></xsl-text>. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived National Anti-Slavery Standard Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 7.10.1845 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Humble Petition. Of the West India Planters to the People of England, With Every Englishman's Answer Description An account of the resource LITERARY. THE HUMBLE PETITION. OF THE WEST INDIA PLANTERS TO THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, WITH EVERY ENGLISHMAN'S ANSWER. Come, buy our rich produce, ye Englishmen, buy! We have excellent sugar, and coffee, and spice; But we want a good market, so pray you draw nigh, (For we're nothing without you; and give us our price. It is true that our fields are still cultured by slaves, And their sweat and their blood is aye wrung from their backs, By the flesh-rending cart-whip, applied to the knaves; For they wouldn't work else, all these indolent blacks. It is true, they are flogged till their muscles are bare, And whenever they vex us—'t is all at our will; You may see on their bodies full many a scar, Just excepting the few we may happen to kill. And although they don't marry, together they live, Till it suits us the one or the other to sell; Then the parents, or children, to market we drive, As we do other beasts; though they do n't bear it so well. When their kind-hearted friends have come over the main, To instruct them in virtue and care for their good, We as promptly enjoin them to go back again; If they don't, we soon let out their traitorous blood. So we won't let them learn; nay, we flog them for praying, And pull all their preaching shops down to the ground. Who would let such asses be constantly braying, Such dens of sedition be open around? But you will not, on this account, think of not dealing? About such <xsl-text></xsl-text>mere brutes <xsl-text></xsl-text>you won't make a bother? You don't mean to resent the small sin of man-selling? Or if you are <xsl-text></xsl-text>saints, <xsl-text></xsl-text>you won't feel for a brother? You'll not claim <xsl-text></xsl-text>their <xsl-text></xsl-text>freedom, because <xsl-text></xsl-text>you <xsl-text></xsl-text>are free? You 're not going for the rights of the <xsl-text></xsl-text>Negro <xsl-text></xsl-text>to care? Such days of romance we thought never to see, And we 're ruined, quite ruined, at once, if you are. O buy our slave produce, free Englishmen, buy! If you suffer such scruples, 't will rot on the ground: Of the twice-taxed free sugar the price is so high, You can't get it so cheap by a penny a pound. EVERY ENGLISHMAN'S ANSWER. Go, and loosen the captives! No longer will I Spend a farthing, thou human-flesh-monger, with thee: For the sake of a penny, I never will buy E'en an ounce of thy sugar, <xsl-text></xsl-text>till Negroes are free.<xsl-text></xsl-text> Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived The Liberator Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 12.7.1833 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource WHO IS THE TRAITOR? (Poem) Description An account of the resource EPIGRAM The following terse and timely epigram appears in the Portsmouth (N.H.) Journal. It is from the pen of James Kennard, jun., a young invalid, who has been confined to his room and bed for nearly ten years, and who for a considerable part of the time has been unable to bear the light of day. He retains, however, all the cheerfulness and vivacity of health, and from time to time dictates or writes the thoughts of a clear, vigorous mind, on prominent topics and passing events. We have never seen a better answer to the attempt to brand as treason the honest and conscientious disapproval of a disgraceful and wicked War. WHO IS THE TRAITOR? Who deserves the burning curses Heaped upon the traitor's head? "He who renders aid and comfort To the enemy," tis said. Who, then, is the greatest traitor On this vast terrestrial ball? He who renders aid and comfort To the Enemy of All. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource John Greenleaf Whittier Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived The Non-Slaveholder 2:9, p. 216 (reprinted from the National Era) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 9.1.1847 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Good Bye (Poem) Description An account of the resource Good bye, proud world! I'm going home: Thou art not my friend, and I'm not thine, Long through thy weary crowds I roam; A river ark on the ocean brine. Long I've been toss'd like the driven foam; But now, proud world! I'm going home! Good-bye to Flattery's fawning face; To Grandeur with his wise grimace; To upstart Wealth's averted eye; To supple Office, low and high; To crowded halls, to court and street; To frozen hearts and hasting feet; To those who go and those who come; Good-bye, proud world! I'm going home. I'm going to my own hearth-stone, Bosom'd in yon green hills alone-- A secret nook in a pleasant land, Whose groves the frolic fairies planned; Where arches green, the livelong day, Echo the black-bird's roundelay, And vulgar feet have never trod A spot that is sacred to thought and God. O, when I am safe in my sylvan home, I tread on the pride of Greece and Tome; And when I am stretched beneath the pines, Where the evening star so holy shines, I laugh at the lore and the pride of man, At the sophist schools, and the learned clan, For what are they all in their high conceit, When man in the bush with God may meet? Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Ralph Waldo Emerson Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <div id="dublin-core-source" class="element"> <div class="element-text five columns omega"> The Non-Slaveholder 2:7, pp. 168 </div> </div> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 7.1.1847 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource EPISTLE TO WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, ESQ. On the Rejection of the bill for abolishing THE SLAVE TRADE Description An account of the resource In our research for papers issued in the slave's behalf, following the parliamentary vote, in 1791, which negatived a motion to abolish the slave trade, we met with the following very beautiful poem by one of England's most gifted daughters. Some elegant selections from her writing are given in Frost's British Poets; but this does not appear among them, nor do we believe it can be found in any other American volume. We suppose that to most of our readers it will be as new and acceptable as t was to us.--E[?]s. EPISTLE TO WILLIAM WILBERFORCE, ESQ. On the Rejection of the bill for abolishing THE SLAVE TRADE BY ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD (London, J. Johnson, M.DCC.XCI.) Cease, Wilberforce, to urge thy generous aim! Thy Country knows the sin, and stands the shame! The Preacher, Poet, Senator in vain Has rattled in her sigh the Negro's chain; With his deep groans assailed her startled ear, And rent the veil that hid his constant tear; Forc'd her averted eyes his stripes to scan. Beneath the bloody scourge laid bare the man, Claim'd Pity's tear, urg'd Conscience's strong controul, And flash'd conviction on her shrinking soul. The Muse, too, soon awak'd, with ready tongue At Mercy's shrine applausive peans rung; And Freedom's eager sons, in vain foretold A new Astrean reign, an age of gold: She knows and she persists--Still Afric bleeds; Uncheck'd, the human traffic still proceeds; She stamps her infamy to future time, And on her harden'd forehead seals the crime. In vain, to thy white standard gathering round, Wit, Worth, and Parts and Eloquence are found; In vain, to push to birth thy great design, Contending chiefs, and hostile virtues join; All, from conflicting ranks, of power possest To rouse, to melt, or to inform the breast. Where seasoned tools of Avarice prevail, A Nation's eloquence, combined, must fail: Each flimsy sophistry by turns they try; The plausive argument, the daring lie, The artful gloss, that moral sense confounds, Th'acknowledged thirst of gain that honours wounds: Bane of ingenuous minds, th'unfeeling sneer Which, sudden, turns to stone the falling tear: Thy search assiduous, with inverted skill, For forms of wrong, and precdents of ill; With impious mockery wrest the sacred page, And glean up crimes from each remoter age: Wrung Nature's tortures, shuddering, while you tell, From scoffing fiends bursts forth the laugh of hell; In Britain's senate, Misery's pangs give birth To justs unseemly, and to horrid mirth-- Forebear!--thy virtues but provoke our doom, And swell th'account of vengeance yet to come; For, not unmark'd in Heaven's impartial plan, Shall man, proud wo[?]m, contemn his fellow-man? And injured Afric, by herself redrest,  Darts her own serpents at her Tyrant's breast. Each vice, to minds deprav'd by bondage known, With sure contagion fastens on his own; In sickly languors melts his nerveless frame, And blows to rage impetuous Passion's flame: Fermentng swift, the fiery venom gains The milky innocence of infant veins; There swells the stubborn will, damps learning's fire, The whirlwind wakes of uncontroul'd desire, Sears the young heart to images of woe, And blasts the buds of Virtue as they blow. Lo! where reclin'd, pale Beauty courts the breeze Diffus'd on sofas of voluptuous ease; With anxious awe, her menial train around, Catch her faint whispers of half-utter'd sound; See her, in monstrous fellowship, unite At once the Scythian, and the Sybarite; Blending repugnant vices, misally'd, Which frugul nature purpos'd to divide; See her, with indolence to fierceness join'd, Of body delicate, infirm of mind, With languid tones imperious mandates urge; With arm recumbent wield the household scourge, And with unruffled mien, and placid sounds, Contriving torture, and inflicting wounds. Nor, in their palmy walks and spicy groves, The form benign of rural Pleasure roves; No milk-maids' song, or hum of village talk, Sooths the lone Poet in his evening walk: No willing arm the flail unwearied plies, Where the mix'd sounds of cheerful labour rise; No blooming maids, and frolic swains are seen To pay gay homage to their harvest queen: No heart-expanding scenes their eyes must prove Of thriving industry, and faithful love: But shrieks and yells disturb the balmy air, Dumb sullen looks of woe announce despair, And angry eyes thro' dusky features glare. Far from the sounding lash the Muses fly, And sensual riot drowns each finer joy. Nor less from the gay East, on essenc'd wings, Breathing unnam'd perfumes, Contagion springs; The soft luxurious plague alike pervades The marble palaces, and rural shades; Hence, throng'd Augusta builds her rosy bowers, And decks in summer wreaths her smoky towers; And hence, in summer bow'rs, Art's costly hand Pours courtly splendours o'er the dazzled land: The manners melt--One undistinguish'd blaze O'erwhelms the sober pomp of elder days; Corruption follows with gigantic stride, And scarce vouchsafes his shameless front to hide: The spreading leprosy taints ev'ry part, Infects each limb, and sickens at the heart. Simplicity! most dear of rural maids, Weeping resigns her violated shades; Stern Independence from his glebe retires, And anxious Freedom eyes her drooping fires; By foreign wealth are British morals chang'd, And Afric's sons, and India's, smile aveng'd. For you, whose temper'd ardour long has borne Untir'd the labour, and unmov'd the scorn; In Virtue's fasti be inscrib'd your fame, And utter'd your's with Howard's honour'd name, Friends of the friendless--Hail, ye generous band! Whose efforts yet arrest Heaven's lifted hand, Around whose steady brows, in union bright, The civic wreath, and Christian's palm unite: Your merit stands, no greater and no less, Without, or with the varnish of success; But seek no more to break a Nation's fall, For ye have sav'd yourselves--and that is all. Succeeding times your struggles, and their fate, With mingled shame and triumph shall relate, While faithful History, in her various page, Marking the features of this motley age, To shed a glory, and to fix a stain, Tells how you strove, and that you strove in vain. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Anna Letitia Barbauld Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived The Non-Slaveholder 2:7, pp. 167-168 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 7.1.1847 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource What the Voice Said Description An account of the resource Maddened by Earth's wrong and evil, "Lord!" I cried in sudden ire, "From thy right hand, clothes with thunder, Shake the bolted fire! "Love is lost, and Faith is dying; With the brute the man is sold; And the dropping blood of labour Hardens into gold. "Here the dying wail of Famine There the battle's groan of pain; And, in silence, smooth-faced Mammon Reaping men like grain. "'Where is God, that we should fear him?' Thus the earth-born Titans say; 'God! if thou art living, hear us!' Thus the weak ones pray. "Thou, the patient Heaven upbrainding," Spake a solemn voice within; "Weary of our Lord's forebearance, Art thou free from sin? "Fearless brow to Him uplifting, Canst thou for his thunders call, Knowing that to guilt's attraction Evermore they fall? "Know'st thou not all germs of evil In thy heart await their time? Not thyself, but God's restraining, Stays their growth of crime. "Couldst thou boast, oh child of weakness! O'er the sons of wrong and strife, Were their strong temptations planted In thy path of life? Thou hast seen two streamlets gushing From one fountain, clear and free, But by widely varying channels Searching for the sea "Glideth one through greenest valleys, Kissing them with lips still sweet; One, mad-roaring down the mountains, Stagnates at their feet. "Is it choice whereby the Parsee, Kneels before his mother's fire; In his black tent did the Tartar Choose his wandering sire? "He alone, whose hand is bounding Human power and human will, Looking through each soul's surrounding, Knows its good or ill. "For thyself, while wrong and sorrow Make to thee their strong appeal, Coward wert thou not to utter What the heart must feel. "Earnest words must needs be spoken When the warm heart bleeds or burns With its scorn of wrong, or pity For the wronged, by turns. "But, by all thy nature's weakness, Hidden faults and follies known, Be thou, in rebuking evil, Conscious of thine own. "Nor the less shall stern-eyed duty To thy lips her trumpet set, But with harsher blasts shall mingle Wailings of regret." Cease not, Voice of holy speaking, Teacher sent of God, be near, Whispering through the day's cool silence, Let my spirit hear! So, when thoughts of evil doers Waken scorn or hatred move, Shall a mournful fellow feeling Temper all with love. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource John G. Whittier Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived The Non-Slaveholder 2:5, pp. 119-120 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1.5.1847 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Sonnet to Gerrit Smith (Poem) Description An account of the resource Written on hearing he had contributed two thousand dollars for the relief of the starving poor of Ireland. No civic hours deck thy lofty brow, Nor laurel wreaths won in the bloody fight; Far nobler prizes glitter in thy sight, And crown thy holy labours. Even now Thy country owns thee as the poor man's friend, And not thy country only; that green isle Across the ocean, with a grateful smile, Accepts thy bounty. Freely dost thou lend What God hath given thee; freely dost thou cast Thy bread upon the waters; but we know It is not lost: each floating seed shall grow, And yield abundant fruit. Bright o'er the past  With growing lustre shall thy virtues glow, And on thy name a deathless glory cast. April 5, 1847.  GULIELMUS. Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived The Non-Slaveholder 2:5, p. 119 (reprinted from the National Era) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1.5.1847 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource John Woolman (Poem) Description An account of the resource Meek, humble, sinless as a very child, Such wert thou,--and, though unbeheld, I seem Oft-times to gaze upon they features mild, Thy grave, yet gentle lip, and the soft beam Of that kind eye, that knew not how to shed A glance of aught save love, on any human head. Servant of Jesus! Christian! not alone In name and creed, with practice differing wide, Thou didst not in thy conduct fear to own His self denying precepts for thy guide. Stern only to thyself, all others felt Thy strong rebuke was love, not meant to crush, but melt. Thou, who didst pour o'er all the human kind Thy gushing fervour of thy sympathy! E'en the unreasoning brute, fail'd not to find A pleader for his happiness in thee. Thy heart was moved for every breathing thing, By careless man exposed to needless suffering. But most the wrongs and sufferings of the slave, Stirr'd the deep fountain of thy pitying heart; And still thy hand was stretched to aid and save, Until it seem'd that thou hadst taken a part In their existence, and couldst hold no more A separate life from them, as thou hadst done before. How the sweet pathos of thy eloquence, Beautiful in its simplicity, went forth Entreating for them! that this vile offence, So unbeseeming of our country's worth, Might be removed before the threatening cloud, Thou saw'st o'erhanging it, should burst in storm and blood. So may thy name be reverence,--thou wert one Of those whose virtues link us to our kind, By our best sympathies; thy day is done, But its sweet twilight lingers still behind, In thy pure memory; and we bless thee yet, For the example fair thou hast before us set. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Elizabeth Margaret Chandler Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Non-Slaveholder 2:3, p. 72 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1.3.1847 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Poetry Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Prayer (Poem) Description An account of the resource In the following brief prayer, the wants of the humble Christian are condensed in a manner worthy of Quarles or Herbert: PRAYER BY THOMAS ELWOOD, A QUAKER OF 1600 Oh! that mine eyes might closed be To what concerns me not to see-- That deafness might possess mine ear To what concerns me not to hear; That truth my tongue might always tie From ever speaking foolishly; That no vain thought might ever rest Or be conceived in my breast; That by each word and deed and thought, Glory may to my God be brought! But what are wishes? Lord, mine eye On Thee is fixed, to Thee I cry-- Wash, Lord, and purify my heart, And make it clean in every part; And when 'tis clean, Lord, keep it too, For that is more than I can do. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thomas Elwood Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived The Non-Slaveholder 2:2, p. 48 Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1.2.1847