XXIII
I stand at dusk upon a cliff, ’gainst which mid rumble of rain
And smoke is dashed in roaring spray the water’s vast hurricane.
Just as a bird that seeks in vain for rest the isle’s seclusion,
My gaze dips gloomily in mists, of clouds and waves confusion
Which dark extends ahead into unbounded space and which teems
Belike a witches’ caldron with waterspouts and seething streams.
As here I stand and backward gaze, in slav’ry groans the land there;
I gaze ahead, there the threatening elements mad strife prepare.
A tempest wild draws nigh; e’en now blows the wind my locks about,
While the voices of the storm my chain’s eternal clash o’ershout.
But I those fettered hands forth to the coming deluge extend,
And my cheeks, like maids on kisses bent, to the lashing winds I lend:
Welcome, storm. Your ghastly sight but promises redemption only,
And in your rumble and roar, ’tis freedom’s song saluting me.
And now suddenly a sparkling mist begins to fill my eyes;
I feel how my throbbing temples burn with sudden fire; how rise
From my bosom to my trembling lips fantastic murmurings,
And how my soul soars to future realms on thought’s prophetic wings.
There’s a twinkling, glimmering, dawn, beyond that mass of clouds and spray,
Just as if through them were breaking forth the heavy birth of day.
The angry sea clothes itself in a ruddy, weirdly beauteous glow,
As if in the broad water’s stead blood and only blood did flow.
The lengthy crests of monstrous waves, rain dashed into spray anew,
Raging waterspouts and bursting clouds,—all are a bloody hue;
And crash and din deafen the ear, as when in the battle’s fray
Clash countless spears and lances of raving armies without array.
But anon the drumming of the storm grows still, the seething ceases,
The sun’s golden shield, peeping from the rosy vapors, increases.
Victorious day rends the clouds and mists in flowing tatters,
Just as in flying fringe are torn the battle-worn banners.
The scattered hosts of darkness flee; silent grows the stormy scene;
Blue is the sky, blue is the sea, gold the atmosphere between.
But what do I behold? A new strand there. The sun’s smiling form
Of coming years illumines another world reborn from the storm.
And yon palm’s gorgeous growth of green, glistening with fruit of gold,
Surveys its pleasing charms in the deep blue water’s peaceful fold.
The country round with ’bundance beams—blossom, grain and grape of vine;
And there in gratitude urgent work and merry song combine.
All hands are free from fetters, pleasant is the laborer’s brow,
Nowhere custodian with whip, nor sleek the slaveholder now;
Nowhere glistens the savage soldier’s lance and spear, nor appear
The white folds of the Brahman’s robe hypocritically near;
Nowhere is writ in colors diverse the mark of caste,
’Tis the happy native land of brothers equal and free at last.
Peacefully in those throngs are mingled diverse speech and color,
The beggar does not wind in rags, nor wastes his wealth the idler;
Gone are the wretched huts, tidy homes though plain are everywhere;
And where a stately palace proudly towers to the skies, not there
Is a haughty egoist’s abode, opens wide its gates to all;
The people’s parliament deliberates free their rise and fall;
From there the glow of knowledge spreads about a benevolent light,
Ennobling the human feelings, there in art soul finds delight.—
The clash of chains has wakened me, the beautiful dream is effaced,
So sadly interchanged, by the present shame and woe replaced.—
But no! ’Twas not a mere illusion of my o’er-yearning dream.
I know that the morning star of those better days will yet gleam;
That the greater part of that vision’s splendor will be fulfilled,
Though from my aged neck to shake the yoke, I shall not be willed.
My silvery gray head will bow unto the dust of a slave;
Slaves too will cast the handful of earth to my fetters in my grave.
But, you, O younger comrades, ere your course shall know time no more,
You shall ascend with happy tread upon freedom’s sunny shore.
Then may the rude fist with whip around about in darkness reign.
But let each cherish faithfully for the future that blessed refrain;
Let all minds be united by the bond of our great endeavor,
And till time bids thee to action, gather your forces together;
All peoples free shall fraternize, the bonds of slaves will fall,
And our flag too, O brothers, will wave in the clear heights o’er all.