| SLAVERY: THE SOUTH'S PECULIAR INSTITUTION Now where cotton was king, the southern plantations, Souls were still subject to cruel depradations, As one third of women and as one third of men, Were forced into labor because of their skin. With a lash from the whip and beatings most savage, Should a slave misbehave or try to seek passage To freedom so cherished, the due right of all -- And a promise which lay beyond racism's thrall. As the slave codes, so called, did such actions deny: Like meeting and reading, and keeping arms in supply. And so life toiled on with such heartache and fear Kept chained to harsh Fate by a strict overseer. Yes, fourteen hours a day at work in the fields, From "can see to can't", for those high cotton yields. With meals of cold meat, bits of cormeal and bread, While the masters grew flush, and so lavishly fed, In the Great House on high with such comforts therein, The fruits of forced labor, the shameful spoils of sin. Indeed, every fine good, every rich planter's manse, Was bought on the backs, by a slave's toiling hands. With families torn through as owners sold them apart, With no quarter, no pity, seen disturbing their heart! Now, true, many did run, and some few did revolt, Braving torture or death as the risk of a bolt. But most prayed and endured; indeed, what else was left? -- With their lives and their labor ever subject to theft. But not all eyes were blind; in fact, some were appalled That this land of ideals should know cruelty so cold. And hope beats in all hearts and survives on just crumbs, Despair will not crush it, for it knows the day comes When all shackles are rent, when the soul has its chance To breath freely the air, to have deliverance... |
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| Worksheet # 64 |
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