Washington telegraph., 1849-02-28
40 CARRY LIE BACK."

An aged slave, who had been recently Liberated
II Virginia, and sent to Indiana, passed up tn
liver Yesterday, on the steamer Telegraph, alone
IN his return to his old master. His heurt was il
old Virginny," and he had no happiness, evel
With liberty, in the land of strangers. Ills ag
could not have been less than 10.
BY C. w. CUTTER.
Look here, We heartless, lawless bands
Who, in the name We desecrate,
Would lay your red incendiary hands
Upon peaceful " sister State;'
Ye who would rend the sacred ties
That have secured our highest trust,
Would teai our banner from the skies,
would trail it's glories in the dust
Who, in the name of God and truth,
Would scatter Goals throughout the land
Would place in freedoms name forsoothl
A knife in each assassin's hand
Who, while the lowly Saviour's name
Does on your Judas accents swell,
Have thoughts within your hearts Of shame
Unworthy of the fiends in hell.
Look here and see the cord that binds
Alike the master and the man;
And own how vain your puny minds
The bondage of the earth and sky,
How ever far the feet may roam
The yearning pang that will not die
The tyranny of hearth and nome.
Then view the exiles We have made
TO wander midst Canadian snow,
Still pining for each sunny glade
From which you counselled them to go,
How many heart with grief has broke,
How many more in silence bleed
Who from your wretched schemes awoke
To find that they were slaves indeed.
Ye, who have raved of lash and chains,
OF fettered hands and tortures grim,
Until your dark, and heated brains
With scenes of pandemonla teem,
As if it were our sole pursuit
To WELD the gyve, the scourge, the rack ;
AS each were ierocious brute
That hunted the devoted black.
What, after all, is'ty would give
These children Of another race?
DO they with you like equals live,
AS there was no dividing tracer
Do We allow them to be heard
In throngs that pardon or condemn?
Or may they say one single word,
When laws are made to govern thcm7
Where Joy and social pleasures flow,
Do they with ye its mazes tread?
Or in the hour of want and woe,
Are you the watchers by their bed?
How oft within your glittering halls
Hath any negro brother trod
Alas your ban upon him falls
Een at the very shrine OF God
What do we more in sight Of heaven,
That We in terms of scOrn condemn?
Must then our herita ge be given
Our homes be yielded up to them?
Or must we drive them from our shore,
To people your more iavor'd cline?
The faith, the God whom we adore,
Assures us this indeed were crime
What do we more I've Go not make
We found their sres what now they are:
And find we have no power to break
The bonds that they were doomed to we ar
The name is aIl-they no worse
For titles ye affect to dread;
Your freedom cancels not the curse
Still they must ever toll for bread.
With us, at least, they have home,
Nor wander indigent--forlorn.
As, midst your northern wds they roam,
And weep for scenes where they were born
A shade from summers sultry heat,
A shelter from the wintry blast
An humble but secure retreat
When youthful energies are past.
And Southern hearts are always kind,
And warm as their own earth,-
And all must weep to leave behind
The spot that gave them birth
And hence, beneath your frozen sky,
You hear the plaintive strain,
While tears hed:m the mnstrel's eye,
"Oh, carry me back again! -
CovINGToN, KY, June Z, l04S.