  Slave of the dark and dirty mine, What vanity has brought thee here? How can I love to see thee shine So bright, whom I have bought so dear? The tent-ropes flapping lone I hear For twilight converse, arm in arm; When mirth and music wont to charm. By Cherical's dark wandering streams, Where cane-tufts shadow all the wild, Sweet visions haunt my waking dreams Of Teviot loved while still a child, Of castled rocks stupendous piled By Esk or Eden's classic wave, Where loves of youth and friendship smiled, Uncursed by thee, vile yellow slave! Fade, day-dreams sweet, from memory fade! The perished bliss of youth's first prime, That once so bright on fancy played, Revives no more in after-time. Far from my sacred natal clime, I haste to an untimely grave; The daring thoughts that soared sublime Are sunk in ocean's southern wave. Slave of the mine, thy yellow light Gleams baleful as the tomb-fire drear. A gentle vision comes by night My lonely widowed heart to cheer: Her eyes are dim with many a tear, That once were guiding stars to mine: Her fond heart throbs with many a fear! I cannot bear to see thee shine. For thee, for thee, vile yellow slave, I left a heart that loved me true! To roam in climes unkind and new. The cold wind of the stranger blew Chill on my withered heart; the grave Dark and untimely met my view,— And all for thee, vile yellow slave! Ha! com'st thou now so late to mock A wanderer's banished heart forlorn, Now that his frame the lightning shock Of sun-rays tipped with death has borne? From love, from friendship, country, torn, To memory's fond regrets the prey, Vile slave, thy yellow dross I scorn! Go mix thee with thy kindred clay! John Leyden. |
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