H. N. G. to Frederick Douglass, August 22, 1855
For Frederick Douglass Paper.
POEMS BY PHILLIS WHEATLEY
Mr. Editor:—I have just come across a little book of poems written in the year 1773 by Phillis Wheatley, negro servant to Mr. John Wheatley, of Boston, and printed by Archibald Bell, Bookseller, No. 8, Aldgate Street, London. The style an typography of the book is peculiar to this early day, which alone would make it an interesting relic to the past. But there is something about the poetry which is very fine. The book contains some rare gems of thought, and displays a remarkable knowledge of history and literature, for one whose advantages had been so limited. The poems are mostly of a moral and religious nature.- Perhaps a few words concerning the author may not be uninteresting to a portion of your readers, at least.
Phillis was brought from Africa to this country in the year 1761, and was between seven and eight years of age. She was a perfect stranger to books and letters; but, without any assistance from school education, in sixteen months' time from her arrival, she had learned the English language to such an extent as to read the most difficult parts of the sacred writings with fluency. As to her writing, her own curiosity led her to it, and this she learned in so short a time, that in 1765, when she was only eleven years of age, she wrote a letter to the Rev. Mr. Lecom, the Indian Minister, while in England. "The Poems," we learn from the Preface, "were written originally for the amusement of the author, as they were the products of her leisure moments." But her friends, seeing in them rare merit, inducted her to furnish them for publication.
In the fore part of the book, is an attestation of the genuineness of the poems, signed by the Governor, Lieut. Governor, Hons. Hub-
bard, Erving, Pitts, Hancock, Revs. Elliot, Cooper, Chenney, and some dozen more dignitaries of Massachusetts.
We will give a specimen or two of the shorter poems, and will send more hereafter, if acceptible.
ON BEING BROUGHT FROM AFRICA TO AMERICA
Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land
Taught by my benighted soul to understand
That there's a God—that there's a Savior too;
Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
"Their color is a diabolic dye."
Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain, May be refined, and join the angelic train.
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AM HYMN TO HUMANITY.
To S. P. G., Esqr.
Lo ! for this dark, terrestrial fall
Forsakes his azure-paved hall,
A prince of heavenly birth;
Divine Humanity behold
What wonders rise, what charms:
at this descent to earth !
The bosoms of the great and good,
With wonder and delight he viewed,
And fixed his empire there;
Him, close compressing to his brea
The fire of gods and men, addressed,
"My son, my heav'nly fair:
"Descend to earth—there place thy throne,
To succor man's aflicted son,
Each human heart inspire ;
To act in bounties unconfined,
Enlarge the close contracted mind,
And fill it with thy fire."
Quick as the work, with swift career
He wings his course from start to star,
And leaves the bright abode ;
The virtue did his charms impart,
Their G—y ! then thy raptured heart
Perceived the rushing God.
For when thy pitying eye did see
The languid muse in low degree,
Then, then at thy desire,
Descended the celestial nine
O'er me, me thought they deigned to shine
And deigned to string my lyre.
Can Afric's muse forgetful prove ?
or can such friendship fail to move
A Tender human heart ?
Immortal Friendship laurel-crown'd
The smiling faces all surround,
With ev'ry, heav'nly heart.
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ODE TO NEPTUNE
On Mrs. W-------'s Voyage to England. Boston,
October, 1772
While raging tempests shake the shore,
While AE'lus thunders round us roar,
And sweep impetuous o'er the plain—
Be still ! O tyrant of the main !
Nor let thy brow contracted frowns betray,
While my Susannah skims the wat'ry way.
The Power propitious bears the lay,
The blue-eyed daughters of the sea,
With sweeter cadence, glide along,
And Thames, responsive, joins the song.
Pleased with their notes, Sol sheds benign his
ray,
And double radiance decks the face of day.
To court thee to Britannia's arms,
Serene the climes and mild the sky;
Her region boasts unnumber'd charms,
Thy promise, Neptune keep, record my prayer,
Nor give my wishes to the empty air.
H. N. G.
Gilbert's Mills, Aug. 22.