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A prolific writer, Harper published many collections of poetry, including Autumn Leaves (also published as Forest Leaves) (1845); Poems on Miscellaneous Subjects (1854), which was reprinted 20 times; Sketches of Southern Life (1872), which chronicles Reconstruction; Poems (1857); The Martyr of Alabama and Other Poems (1892); The Sparrow’s ...
- Let The Light Enter
More Poems by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper. The Slave...
- Bible Defense of Slavery
More Poems by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper. The Slave...
- The Slave Auction
Poems, articles, and podcasts that explore African American...
- A Double Standard
A Double Standard. By Frances Ellen Watkins Harper. Do you...
- Let The Light Enter
- The Slave Mother
- Bury Me in A Free Land
- The Slave Auction
- Going East
- Lines to A Friend
- My Mother’s Kiss
- The Reunion
- Dark-Browed Martha
- The Night of Death
Heard you that shriek? It rose So wildly on the air, It seem’d as if a burden’d heart Was breaking in despair. Saw you those hands so sadly clasped— The bowed and feeble head— The shuddering of that fragile form— That look of grief and dread? Saw you the sad, imploring eye? Its every glance was pain, As if a storm of agony Were sweeping through the...
Make me a grave where’er you will, In a lowly plain, or a lofty hill Make it among earth’s humblest graves, But not in a land where men are slaves. I could not rest if around my grave I heard the steps of a trembling slave His shadow above my silent tomb Would make it a place of fearful gloom. I could not rest if I heard the tread Of a coffle gang ...
The sale began—young girls were there, Defenseless in their wretchedness, Whose stifled sobs of deep despair Revealed their anguish and distress. And mothers stood, with streaming eyes, And saw their dearest children sold; Unheeded rose their bitter cries, While tyrants bartered them for gold. And woman, with her love and truth— For these in sable ...
She came from the East a fair, young bride, With a light and a bounding heart, To find in the distant West a home With her husband to make a start. He builded his cabin far away, Where the prairie flower bloomed wild; Her love made lighter all his toil, And joy and hope around him smiled. She plied her hands to life’s homely tasks, And helped to bu...
ON REMOVING FROM HER NATIVE VILLAGE. The golden rays of sunset fall on a snow-clad hill, As standing by my window I gaze there long and still. I see a roof and a chimney, and some tall elms standing near, While the winds that sway their branches bring voices to my ear. They tell of a darkened hearth-stone, that once shone bright and gay, And of old...
My mother’s kiss, my mother’s kiss, I feel its impress now; As in the bright and happy days She pressed it on my brow. You say it is a fancied thing Within my memory fraught; To me it has a sacred place — The treasure house of thought. Again, I feel her fingers glide Amid my clustering hair; I see the love-light in her eyes, When all my life was fa...
Well, one morning real early I was going down the street, And I heard a stranger asking For Missis Chloe Fleet. There was something in his voice That made me feel quite shaky. And when I looked right in his face, Who should it be but Jakey! I grasped him tight, and took him home – What gladness filled my cup! And I laughed, and just rolled over, An...
When the frost-king clothed the forests In a flood of gorgeous dyes, Death called little dark-browed Martha To her mansion in the skies. ‘Twas a calm October Sabbath When the bell with solemn sound Knelled her to her quiet slumbers Low down in the darksome ground. Far away, where sun and summer Reign in glory all the year, Was the land she left beh...
Twas a night of dreadful horror, Death was sweeping through the land And the wings of dark destruction Were outstretched from strand to strand Strong men’s hearts grew faint with terror, As the tempest and the waves Wrecked their homes and swept them downward, Suddenly to yawning graves. ‘Mid the wastes of ruined households, And the tempest’s wild ...
Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (September 24, 1825 – February 22, 1911) was an American abolitionist, suffragist, poet, temperance activist, teacher, public speaker, and writer. Beginning in 1845, she was one of the first African American women to be published in the United States.
It contained heart-breaking entries like “The Slave Mother” and “The Slave Auction”, poems that capture the despair of the enslaved. In 1858, she wrote the powerful poem “Bury Me in a Free Land” , now quoted on the walls of the National Museum of African American History and Culture.
Frances Ellen Watkins Harper, Poems | American Literature 1600-1865. Introduction: Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (1825-1911) Frances Ellen Watkins Harper was born free to free parents in the slaveholding state of Maryland. Her parents died when Harper was still young.
1825 –. 1911. Read poems by this poet. Frances Ellen Watkins Harper was born on September 24, 1825, in Baltimore and raised by her aunt and uncle. A poet, novelist, and journalist, Harper was also a prominent abolitionist and an activist in the temperance and women’s suffrage movements.
