The Bondwoman’s Dream

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The Bondwoman’s Dream

The slave with sickle

reaped the wheat,

Then wearily limped

among the stooks;

But not to rest,

Her little son she sought

Who wakened crying

in cool nest

among the sheaves.

His swaddled limbs unwrapped

she nourished him,

Then, dandling him a moment

fell asleep.

In dreams she saw

her little son,

Her Johnny, grown to man,

handsome and rich.

No lonely bachelor

but a married man

In freedom it seemed,

no longer the landlord’s

but his own man.

And in their own joyous field

his wife and he

reaped their own wheat,

Their children brought their food.

The poor thing

laughed in her sleep,

Woke up⁠—

a dream indeed it was.

She looked at Johnny,

picked him up and swaddled him,

And back to her allotted task;

Sixty stooks her stint.

Perhaps the last of the sixty it was:

God grant it.

And God grant

this dream of thine

may be fulfilled.