The runaway slave came to my abode and stopt outside, I heard his motions crackling the twigs of the woodpile, Through the swung half-door of the kitchen I saw him limpsy and weak, And went where he sat on a log and led him in and assured him, After that brought water and fill'd a barrel for his sweated body and bruis'd feet, And gave him a area that enter'd from my own, after that gave him some coarse clean attire, And remember perfectly well his circling eyes and his awkwardness, And bear in mind putting piasters on the galls of his neck and ankles; He calm with me a week before he was recuperated and pass'd north, I had him sit next me by table, my fire-lock lean'd in the corner. On women fit for beginning I start bigger and nimbler babes. Far-swooping elbow'd earth--rich apple-blossom'd earth! Sun so generous it shall be you! I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women, And the hints a propos old men and mothers, and the offspring taken soon out of their laps.