MISSIONS TO AFRICA.
Oh Afric! famed in story,
The nurse of Egypt's might,
A stain is on thy glory,
And quenched thine ancient light.
Stern Carthage made the pinion
Of Rome's strong eagle cower,
But brief was her dominion,
And lost her trace of power.
And thou, the stricken hearted,
The scorned of every land,
The diadem departed
Dost stretch thy fettered hand;
How long shall misery wring thee,
And none arise to save?
And every billow bring thee
Sad tidings from the slave?
Is not thy night of weeping,
Thy time of darkness o'er?
Is not Heaven's justice keeping
Its vigil round thy shore?
I see a watch-light burning
High on thy mountain tower,
To guide thy sons returning
In Freedom's glorious power.
Thy pyramids aspiring,
Unceasing wonder claim,
And still the world admiring
Demands their founder's name;
But more enduring glory
Shall settle on his head
Who blest Salvation's story
Shall o'er thy desert spread.