Bury Me In a Free Land

*** Narrative Lectionary *** Lectionary Reading: Exodus 1:8—2:10; 3:1-15 CLASSIC POEM: Bury Me in a Free Land Frances Ellen Watkins Harper Make me a grave where’er you will, In a lowly plain, or a lofty hill; Make it among earth’s humblest graves, But not in a land where men are slaves. I could not rest if around my grave I heard the steps of a trembling slave; His shadow above my silent tomb Would make it a place of fearful gloom. I could not rest if I heard the tread Of a coffle gang to the shambles led, And the mother’s shriek of wild despair Rise like a curse on the trembling air. I could not sleep if I saw the lash Drinking her blood at each fearful gash, And I saw her babes torn from her breast, Like trembling doves from their parent nest. I’d shudder and start if I heard the bay Of bloodhounds seizing their human prey, And I heard the captive plead in vain As they bound afresh his galling chain. If I saw young girls from their mother’s arms Bartered and sold for their youthful charms, My eye would flash with a mournful flame, My death-paled cheek grow red with shame. I would sleep, dear friends, where bloated might Can rob no man of his dearest right; My rest shall be calm in any grave Where none can call his brother a slave. I ask no monument, proud and high, To arrest the gaze of the passers-by; All that my yearning spirit craves, Is bury me not in a land of slaves. *** This poem is in the public domain, and may be read in a live-streamed worship service. CONTEMPORARY POEM: Pharoah’s daughter, and the child Andrea Skevington SNIPPET: … Marvellous princess, you did more. You paid a slavewoman wages, you acted with justice and mercy, you saw a child, and not an enemy. … [ READ THE FULL POEM ]