ONE hour for distant homes to weep, 'Midst Afric's burning sand, One silent sunset hour was given To the slaves of many lands. They sat beneath a lonely palm, In the gardens of their lord; And, mingling with the fountain's tune, Their songs of exile poured. And strangely, sadly did those lays Of Alp and ocean sound, With Afric's wild, red skies above, And solemn wastes around. Broken with tears were oft their tones And most when most they tried To breathe of hope and liberty, From hearts that inly died. So met the sons of many lands, Parted by mount and main; So did they sing in brotherhood, Made kindred by the chain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PEACE by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS EGERTON MANUSCRIPT: 104. JOPAS'S SONG by THOMAS WYATT MY AUNT by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES PETER QUINCE AT THE CLAVIER by WALLACE STEVENS HESPERIA by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE THE SILENT VOICES by ALFRED TENNYSON ODE TO WORK by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS VERSES WRITTEN ON THE BACK OF AN OLD VISITATION COPY OF ARMS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |