Men of Cleveland, had a vulture <br />Sought a timid dove for prey <br />Would you not, with human pity, <br />Drive the gory bird away? <br /> <br />Had you seen a feeble lambkin, <br />Shrinking from a wolf so bold, <br />Would ye not to shield the trembler, <br />In your arms have made its fold? <br /> <br />But when she, a hunted sister, <br />Stretched her hands that ye might save, <br />Colder far than Zembla's regions, <br />Was the answer that ye gave. <br /> <br />On the Union's bloody altar, <br />Was your hapless victim laid; <br />Mercy, truth, and justice shuddered, <br />But your hands would give no aid. <br /> <br />And ye sent her back to the torture, <br />Robbed of freedom and of fright. <br />Thrust the wretched, captive stranger. <br />Back to slavery's gloomy night. <br /> <br />Back where brutal men may trample, <br />On her honor and her fame; <br />And unto her lips so dusky, <br />Press the cup of woe and shame. <br /> <br />There is blood upon our city, <br />Dark and dismal is the stain; <br />And your hands would fail to cleanse it, <br />Though Lake Erie ye should drain. <br /> <br />There's a curse upon your Union, <br />Fearful sounds are in the air; <br />As if thunderbolts were framing, <br />Answers to the bondsman's prayer. <br /> <br />Ye may offer human victims, <br />Like the heathen priests of old; <br />And may barter manly honor <br />For the Union and for gold. <br /> <br />But ye can not stay the whirlwind, <br />When the storm begins to break; <br />And our God doth rise in judgment, <br />For the poor and needy's sake. <br /> <br />And, your sin-cursed, guilty Union, <br />Shall be shaken to its base, <br />Till ye learn that simple justice, <br />Is the right of every race.<br /><br />Frances Ellen Watkins Harper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-union-savers-of-cleveland/
