Why stands she near the auction stand, <br />That girl so young and fair; <br />What brings her to this dismal place, <br />Why stands she weeping there? <br /> <br />Why does she raise that bitter cry? <br />Why hangs her head with shame, <br />As now the auctioneer's rough voice, <br />So rudely calls her name? <br /> <br />But see! she grasps a manly hand, <br />And in a voice so low, <br />As scarcely to be heard, she says, <br />'My brother, must I go?' <br /> <br />A moment's pause: then midst a wail <br />Of agonizing woe, <br />His answer falls upon the ear, <br />'Yes, sister, you must go!' <br /> <br />'No longer can my arm defend, <br />No longer can I save <br />My sister from the horrid fate <br />That waits her as a SLAVE!' <br /> <br />Ah! now I know why she is there, <br />She came there to be sold! <br />That lovely form, that noble mind, <br />Must be exchanged for gold! <br /> <br />O God! my every heart-string cries, <br />Dost thou these scenes behold <br />In this our boasted Christian land, <br />And must the truth be told? <br /> <br />Blush, Christian, blush! for e'en the dark <br />Untutored heathen see <br />Thy inconsistency, and lo! <br />They scorn thy God, and thee!<br /><br />Anonymous Americas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-slave-auction-a-fact/
