THE PSALM OF THE SLAVE.
Reading edition
God heard it; and he is free.
Loud he sang the Psalm of David, He a negro and enslaved, Sang of Israel's victory; Sang of Zion bright and free. In that hour when night is calmest, Sang he from the Hebrew Psalmist, In a voice so sweet and clear, That I could not choose but hear— Songs of triumph and ascription, Such as reached the swarth Egyptian, When upon the Red-Sea coast Perished Pharaoh and his host. And the voice of his devotion, Filled my soul with strange emotion; For its tones by turns were glad, Sweetly solemn, wildly sad. Paul and Silas in their prison, Sang of Christ, the Lord arisen; And an earthquake's arm of might Broke their dungeon-gates at night. But, alas! what holy angel Brings the slave this glad evangel? And what earthquake's arm of night Breaks his dungeon-gates at night? Longfellow.