Poems by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
page 52 of 95 (54%)
page 52 of 95 (54%)
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"Tim Thompson, a little negro boy, was asked
to dance for the amusement of some white toughs. He refused, saying he was a church member. One of the men knocked him down with a club and then danced upon his prostrate form. He then shot the boy in the hip. The boy is dead; his murderer is still at large."--News Item. He lifted up his pleading eyes, And scanned each cruel face, Where cold and brutal cowardice Had left its evil trace. It was when tender memories Round Beth'lem's manger lay, (49) 50 THE MARTYR OF ALABAMA. And mothers told their little ones Of Jesu's natal day. And of the Magi from the East Who came their gifts to bring, And bow in rev'rence at the feet Of Salem's new-born King. |
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