"In thinking of America,
I sometimes find myself admiring her bright blue sky - her grand old woods -
her fertile fields - her beautiful rivers - her mighty lakes, and star-crowned
mountains.
But my rapture is soon checked, my joy is soon turned to mourning.
When I remember that all is cursed with the infernal spirit of slaveholding,
robbery and wrong, - when I remember that with the waters of her noblest
rivers, the tears of my brethren are borne to the ocean, disregarded and
forgotten, and that her most fertile fields drink daily of the warm blood of my
outraged sisters, I am filled with unutterable loathing."
No comments:
Post a Comment