Runaway Slave at Pilgrims Point, The

I.

I stand on the mark beside the shore

Of the first white pilgrims bended knee,

Where exile turned to ancestor,

And God was thanked for liberty.

I have run through the night, my skin is as dark,

I bend my knee down on this mark . . .

I look on the sky and the sea.

II.

O pilgrim-souls, I speak to you!

I see you come out proud and slow

From the land of the spirits pale as dew. . .

And round me and round me ye go!

O pilgrims, I have gasped and run

All night long from the whips of one

Who in your names works sin and woe.

III.

And thus I thought that I would come

And kneel here where I knelt before,

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