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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=117380" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Kneeling Slave</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=117380" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Pity the negro, lady! her's is not,<br>Like thine, a blessed and most happy lot!<br>Thou, shelter'd ‘neath a parent's tireless care,<br>The fondly loved, the theme of many a prayer,<br>Blessing, and blest, amidst thy circling friends,<br>Whose love repays the joys thy presence lends,<br>Tread'st gaily onward, o'er thy path of flowers,<br>With ceaseless summer lingering round thy bowers.<br>But her—the outcast of a frowning fate,<br>Long weary years of servile bondage wait.<br>Her lot uncheer'd by hope's reviving gale,<br>The lowest in life's graduated scale—<br>The few poor hours of bliss that cheer her still,<br>Uncertain pensioners on a master's will—<br>'Midst ceaseless toils renew'd from day to day,<br>She wears in bitter tears her life away.<br>She is thy sister, woman! shall her cry,<br>Uncared for, and unheeded, pass thee by?<br>Wilt thou not weep to see her rank so low,<br>And seek to raise her from her place of woe?<br>Or has thy heart grown selfish in its bliss,<br>That thou shouldst view unmoved a fate like this?</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Elizabeth+Margaret+Chandler">Elizabeth Margaret Chandler</a></strong> from <em><a href="http://sources.citatepedia.com/from.php?a=Elizabeth+Margaret+Chandler&d=Poetical+Works">Poetical Works</a></em></div>