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And he said, Cursed by Canaan, a servant of servants shall he be unto his brethren. And he said, blessed be the Lord God of Shem, and Canaan shall be his servant. God shall enlarge Japheth, and he shall dwell in the tents of Shem, and Canaan shall be his servant. --Genesis 9:25-27.

The billows no more on the mountain-tops slept,
No longer a world in its agony wept;
With his waves had abated the wrath of the Lord,
And the rainbow looked out where of late gleamed the sword.
Of the thousands that scoffed was there none to tell now
How mighty His vengeance when kindled His brow.
The gay and the reckless, and those vexed with cares,
The young in their wine-cups, the man of gray hairs,
The noble in greatness, the maiden in pride,
Alike met the besom--they slept 'neath the tide!
The Patriarch lingered on Ararat still,
The light of Jehovah yet waved on that hill;
And dear to his heart in that wilderness-world,
Was the cloud of rich mercy that over him curled:
And in vision he spake, while its hallowed power
Woke the soul of the seer in prophecy's hour:
A deed of the night, Ham! was known unto thee,
And Canaan subdued to his brethren shall be.
For Ham is poured out the red vial of wrath,
O'er the portion of Canaan hath passed the fell scath;
On the shores of the Ethiop is gathered the flood,
Come not on my sight, O ye visions of blood!
Why floats on mine ear that harrowing cry?
With the crime-tainted breeze why mingles the sigh?
'Tis the groan of the captive, the shriek of the slave,
Ah! he lays down his fetters and stripes in the grave!
To the land of the South speeds the merciless barque,
'Tis not, O my God! thy delivering ark!--
It comes from the white Christian-trafficker's clime,
And the Cross of the Innocent wavers o'er crime;
That banner floats high on the death-scented gale,
From that sepulchre-barque comes the prisoner's wail,
The cowardly taunt is that African's food,
His tears are for thirst and his aliment blood;
Recollections of home with its treasures pass o'er him,
The long ling'ring watchings of grief are before him,
Madly he rushes to where the dark billow
Yields to the wretched its cold dreamless pillow;
He sinks--an immortal forever hath flown,
To wander away from the light of the throne;
God! on me and on mine thou hast scattered thy dew,
Let thy rainbow of love beam on Africa too!


Look afar, my First born! to the regions that lie
Luxuriant and fair 'neath the young eastern sky;
Whose rivers roll onward their silvery flood
Through vales that are lovely as gardens of God:
The birth-place of blessings, uncounted and free,
The land of rich promise I give unto thee;
For possession to thee and thy children, to them
An inheritance worthy the offspring of Shem.
Yet not for the plains where fertility teems
In abundance, surpassing the husbandman's dreams;
Nor yet for the valley, or cedar-clad mountain,
Or streams that gush out from many a fountain,
Or rivers that water the wide plain of palms;
Not for these, O my son--of decay are these charms,
Do I bless yon possessions, for now to mine eye
The dim flood of ages rolls fearfully by--
I see a Deliverer, beneath Syrian skies
I behold offered up the One Sacrifice!
Lo, blessings poured out from obscure Galilee
In floods, shall all nations enrich, yea, I see
Kings, warriors, and people of languages far,
Bow down to His sceptre who rides by name JAH!
Hasten thou, day of wonder! break out holy morn,
When the Uncreate Godhead, a babe shall be born!
God shall bless and enlarge thee, O Japheth! and thou
Awhile shalt repose beneath Shem's fruitful bough;
To thee and to thine the portion shall be
Of lands stretching far to the uttermost sea;
Beyond the tall mountains, whose proudest cliff sees
His base idly washed by blue Euphrates;
Even there where the sun on the wave's yielding breast,
Descends in the eve of his glory to rest.
Regions well favoured, my son! shall be thine;
Hail shores of the blest! where beneath his own vine
Each one shall repose. Hail land of the Free!
And tell me, my spirit! what more wouldst thou see?
Why opens to vision the vista of years?
Ah, why to one robed in clay-vestment appears
Fruition of blessings to men yet unknown?
Sure the light that waves round thee is caught from the throne;
The cloud big with mercies already is o'er thee;
A world disenthralled and redeemed is before thee,
Arise, O my spirit! thou seest the birth
Of glories, surviving this heaven and earth!