Read this excerpt from the poem "Lincoln Looked.”Lincoln looked forward and sawa divided house cannot stand.He looked ahead, beyond the brimof his stovepipe hat, and wherethere were many people, he saw one.Lincoln looked up at the cloudsturning in the sky and knew thatthe nation was doing the same thingin time.
Read this excerpt from the poem "Lincoln Looked.”It was time for a change. Lincolnlooked deep within himself and searchedfor the recipe for a new country madefrom so many wild and unique ingredients.
Read this excerpt from the poem "Lincoln Looked.”Lincoln looked forward and saw a divided house cannot stand.He looked ahead, beyond the brimof his stovepipe hat, and where there were many people, he saw one.Lincoln looked up at the clouds turning in the sky and knew thatthe nation was doing the same thingin time.It was time for a change. Lincolnlooked deep within himself and searchedfor the recipe for a new country madefrom so many wild and unique ingredients.
Read this excerpt from "Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.”I spent Saturday with my grandmother. A calmer, more beautiful day never came out of heaven. To me, it was a day of conflicting emotions. Perhaps it was the last day I should ever have with the faithful old friend of my whole life! Perhaps it was the last time that I and my children should be together! Well, better so, I thought, that that they should be slaves. I knew the doom that awaited my fair baby in slavery. And I was determined to save her from it, or perish in the attempt. I went to make this vow at the graves of my poor parents, in the burying-ground of the slaves. . . .The graveyard was in the woods, and twilight was coming on. Nothing broke the death-like stillness except the occasional twitter of a bird. My spirit was overawed by the solemnity of the scene. For more than ten years I had frequented this spot, but never had it seemed to me so sacred as now. A black stump, at the head of my mother’s grave, was all that remained of a tree my father had planted. His grave was marked by a small wooden board, bearing his name, the letters of which were nearly gone. I knelt down and kissed them, and poured forth a prayer . . . for guidance and support in the perilous step I was about to take. As I passed the wreck of the old meeting house . . . I seemed to hear my father’s voice come from it, telling me not to tarry until I reached freedom or the grave. I rushed on with renovated hopes. . . .
Read this excerpt from “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.”I went about my evening work with trembling steps. Mr. Flint twice called from his chamber door to inquire why the house was not locked up. I replied that I had not done my work. "You have had time enough to do it," said he. "Take care how you answer me!"I shut all the windows, locked all the doors, and went up to the third story, to wait till midnight. How long those hours seemed, and how fervently I prayed that God would not forsake me in this hour of utmost need! I was about to risk everything on the throw of a die; and if I failed, O what would become of me and my poor children? They would be made to suffer for my fault.At half past twelve I stole softly down stairs. I stopped on the second floor, thinking I heard a noise. I felt my way down into the parlor, and looked out of the window. The night was so intensely dark that I could see nothing. I raised the window very softly and jumped out. Large drops of rain were falling, and the darkness bewildered me. I dropped on my knees, and breathed a short prayer to God for guidance and protection. I groped my way to the road, and rushed towards the town with almost lightning speed.
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