Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral by Phillis Wheatley (the lemonade war series .TXT) đ
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Poems on Various Subjects, Religious and Moral was the first book of poetry ever published by an African-American author. Phillis Wheatleyâs deep familiarity with Latin literature and Christianity, combined with her African ancestry, provided her with a unique and inimitable view of poetry.
She was kidnapped and brought over to America on a ship called The Phillis after which she was named. Her interest in poetry and literature was recognized by the Wheatley family who, though keeping her enslaved, provided her with classic works of literature by authors such as Virgil, Homer, Terence, and Pope, all of whom had a significant influence on her work.
She received praise from many of her contemporaries including George Washington, John Hancock, and Voltaire. Shortly after publishing her collection of poetry she was emancipated by the Wheatley family. Even so, her life ended in poverty and obscurity.
Though her influence on poetry and African-American literature is indisputable, more modern critics of her work point to the lack of censure of slavery and the absence of discussion about the lives of black people in the United States as an example of the Uncle Tom syndrome.
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- Author: Phillis Wheatley
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Was snatchâd from Africâs fancyâd happy seat:
What pangs excruciating must molest,
What sorrows labour in my parentâs breast?
Steelâd was that soul and by no misery movâd
That from a father seizâd his babe belovâd:
Such, such my case. And can I then but pray
Others may never feel tyrannic sway?
For favours past, great Sir, our thanks are due,
And thee we ask thy favours to renew,
Since in thy powâr, as in thy will before,
To sooth the griefs, which thou didâst once deplore.
May heavânly grace the sacred sanction give
To all thy works, and thou for ever live
Not only on the wings of fleeting Fame,
Though praise immortal crowns the patriotâs name,
But to conduct to heavâns refulgent fane,
May fiery coursers sweep thâ ethereal plain,
And bear thee upwards to that blest abode,
Where, like the prophet, thou shalt find thy God.
While raging tempests shake the shore,
While Aelusâ thunders round us roar,
And sweep impetuous oâer the plain
Be still, O tyrant of the main;
Nor let thy brow contracted frowns betray,
While my Susanna skims the watâry way.
The Powâr propitious hears the lay,
The blue-eyâd daughters of the sea
With sweeter cadence glide along,
And Thames responsive joins the song.
Pleasâd with their notes Sol sheds benign his ray,
And double radiance decks the face of day.
To court thee to Britanniaâs arms
Serene the climes and mild the sky,
Her region boasts unnumberâd charms,
Thy welcome smiles in evâry eye.
Thy promise, Neptune keep, record my prayâr,
Not give my wishes to the empty air.
Boston, October 10, 1772.
To a Lady on Her Coming to North-America with Her Son, for the Recovery of Her HealthIndulgent muse! my grovâling mind inspire,
And fill my bosom with celestial fire.
See from Jamaicaâs fervid shore she moves,
Like the fair mother of the blooming loves,
When from above the Goddess with her hand
Fans the soft breeze, and lights upon the land;
Thus she on Neptuneâs watâry realm reclinâd
Appearâd, and thus invites the lingâring wind.
âArise, ye winds, America explore,
âWaft me, ye gales, from this malignant shore;
âThe Northern milder climes I long to greet,
âThere hope that health will my arrival meet.â
Soon as she spoke in my ideal view
The winds assented, and the vessel flew.
Madam, your spouse bereft of wife and son,
In the groveâs dark recesses pours his moan;
Each branch, wide-spreading to the ambient sky,
Forgets its verdure, and submits to die.
From thence I turn, and leave the sultry plain,
And swift pursue thy passage oâer the main:
The ship arrives before the favâring wind,
And makes the Philadelphian port assignâd,
Thence I attend you to Bostoniaâs arms,
Where genârous friendship evâry bosom warms:
Thrice welcome here! may health revive again,
Bloom on thy cheek, and bound in evâry vein!
Then back return to gladden evâry heart,
And give your spouse his soulâs far dearer part,
Receivâd again with what a sweet surprise,
The tear in transport starting from his eyes!
While his attendant son with blooming grace
Springs to his fatherâs ever dear embrace.
With shouts of joy Jamaicaâs rocks resound,
With shouts of joy the country rings around.
Though thou didâst hear the tempest from afar,
And feltâst the horrors of the watâry war,
To me unknown, yet on this peaceful shore
Methinks I hear the storm tumultuous roar,
And how stern Boreas with impetuous hand
Compellâd the Nereids to usurp the land.
Reluctant rose the daughters of the main,
And slow ascending glided oâer the plain,
Till Aolus in his rapid chariot drove
In gloomy grandeur from the vault above:
Furious he comes. His winged sons obey
Their frantic sire, and madden all the sea.
The billows rave, the windâs fierce tyrant roars,
And with his thundâring terrors shakes the shores:
Broken by waves the vesselâs frame is rent,
And strows with planks the watâry element.
But thee, Maria, a kind Nereidâs shield
Preservâd from sinking, and thy form upheld:
And sure some heavânly oracle designâd
At that dread crisis to instruct thy mind
Things of eternal consequence to weigh,
And to thine heart just feelings to convey
Of things above, and of the future doom,
And what the births of the dread world to come.
From tossing seas I welcome thee to land.
âResign her, Nereid,â âtwas thy Godâs command.
Thy spouse late buried, as thy fears conceivâd,
Again returns, thy fears are all relievâd:
Thy daughter blooming with superior grace
Again thou seeâst, again thine arms embrace;
O come, and joyful show thy spouse his heir,
And what the blessings of maternal care!
Oâerwhelming sorrow now demands my song:
From death the overwhelming sorrow sprung.
What flowing tears? What hearts with grief opprest?
What sighs on sighs heave the fond parentâs breast?
The brother weeps, the hapless sisters join
Thâ increasing woe, and swell the crystal brine;
The poor, who once his genârous bounty fed,
Droop, and bewail their benefactor dead.
In death the friend, the kind companion lies,
And in one death what various comfort dies!
Thâ unhappy mother sees the sanguine rill
Forget to flow, and natureâs wheels stand still,
But see from earth his spirit far removâd,
And know no grief recals your best-belovâd:
He, upon pinions swifter than the wind,
Has left mortalityâs sad scenes behind
For joys to this terrestial state unknown,
And glories richer than the monarchâs crown.
Of virtueâs steady course the prize behold!
What blissful wonders to his mind unfold!
But of celestial joys I sing in vain:
Attempt not, muse, the too adventârous strain.
No more in briny showârs, ye friends around,
Or bathe his clay, or waste them on the ground:
Still do you weep, still wish for his return?
How cruel thus to wish, and thus to mourn?
No more for him the streams of sorrow pour,
But haste to join him on the heavânly shore,
On harps of gold to tune immortal lays,
And to your God immortal anthems raise.
On Deathâs domain intent I fix my eyes,
Where human nature in vast ruin lies:
With pensive mind I search the drear abode,
Where the great conquâror
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