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The air of England has long been too pure for a slave, and every
man is free who breathes read more
The air of England has long been too pure for a slave, and every
man is free who breathes it.
Cotton is king; or slavery in the Light of Political Economy.
Cotton is king; or slavery in the Light of Political Economy.
Execrable son! so to aspire
Above his brethren, to himself assuming
Authority usurp'd, from God not given.
read more
Execrable son! so to aspire
Above his brethren, to himself assuming
Authority usurp'd, from God not given.
He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl,
Dominion absolute; that right we hold
By his donation; but man over men
He made not lord; such title to himself
Reserving, human left from human free.
Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs
Receive our air, that moment they are free;
They read more
Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs
Receive our air, that moment they are free;
They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
For in reason, all government without the consent of the governed is the very definition of slavery.
For in reason, all government without the consent of the governed is the very definition of slavery.
The very mudsills of society. . . . We call them
slaves. . . . But I will not read more
The very mudsills of society. . . . We call them
slaves. . . . But I will not characterize that class at the North
with that term; but you have it. It is there, it is everywhere,
it is eternal.
In thinking of America, I sometimes find myself admiring her bright blue sky-her grand old woods-her fertile fields-her beautiful rivers-her read more
In thinking of America, I sometimes find myself admiring her bright blue sky-her grand old woods-her fertile fields-her beautiful rivers-her mighty lakes and star-crowned mountains. But my rapture is soon checked when I remember that all is cursed with the infernal spirit of slave-holding and wrong; When I remember that with the waters of her noblest rivers, the tears of my brethren are borne to the ocean, disregarded and forgotten; That her most fertile fields drink daily of the warm blood of my outraged sisters, I am filled with unutterable loathing.
I would not have a slave to till my ground,
To carry me, to fan me while I sleep,
read more
I would not have a slave to till my ground,
To carry me, to fan me while I sleep,
And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth
That sinews bought and sold have ever earn'd.
Whatever day
Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.
Whatever day
Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away.