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LIVINGSTONE IN AFRICA.
103

Lift up her dark deliver'd hands to God!
I may not see it! Like Israel's leader, I
Am but a pioneer to bring the people
Out of their bondage: as on Pisgah's height,
I may behold the promised land from far. . .
I have flung wide the portals of the night:
Children of hope and morning, enter ye!"

CANTO VI.

Now daylight rules: but Livingstone still sleeps
Within the clay-built shadowy chamber walls.
Fragments of torn soil'd paper, strewn around,
Show notes of travel jotted on the way
With his own red blood, used in place of ink.
A notebook, and a Bible, lie beside;
With sextant, and chronometer, and hides;
Ivory, tusks, a rifle, a javelin.