'Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point, The' by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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I stand on the mark beside the shore
Of the first white pilgrim's bended knee,
Where exile turned to ancestor,
And God was thanked for liberty.
I have run through the night, my skin is as dark,
I bend my knee down on this mark . . .
I look on the sky and the sea.

O pilgrim-souls, I speak to you!
I see you come out proud and slow
From the land of the spirits pale as dew. . .
And round me and round me ye go!
O pilgrims, I have gasped and run
All night long from the whips of one
Who in your names works sin and woe.

And thus I thought that I would come
And kneel here where I knelt before,
And feel your souls around me hum
In undertone to the ocean's roar;
And lift my black face, my black hand,
Here, in your names, to curse this land
Ye blessed in freedom's evermore.

I am black, I am black;
And yet God made me, they say.
But if He did so, smiling back
He must have cast His work away
Under the feet of His white creatures,
With a look of scorn,--that the dusky features
Might be trodden again to clay.

And yet He has made dark things
To be glad and merry as light.
There's a little dark bird sits and sings;
There's a dark stream ripples out of sight;
And the dark frogs chant in the safe morass,
And the sweetest stars are made to pass
O'er the face of the darkest night.

But we who are dark, we are dark!
Ah, God, we have no stars!
About our souls in care and cark
Our blackness shuts like prison bars:
The poor souls crouch so far behind,
That never a comfort can they find
By reaching through the prison-bars.

Indeed, we live beneath the sky, . . .
That great smooth Hand of God, stretched out
On all His children fatherly,
To bless them from the fear and doubt,
Which would be, if, from this low place,
All opened straight up to His face
Into the grand eternity.

And still God's sunshine and His frost,
They make us hot, they make us cold,
As if we were not black and lost:
And the beasts and birds, in wood and fold,
Do fear and take us for very men!
Could the weep-poor-will or the cat of the glen
Look into my eyes and be bold?

I am black, I am black!--
But, once, I laughed in girlish glee;
For one of my colour stood in the track
Where the drivers drove, and looked at me--
And tender and full was the look he gave:
Could a slave look so at another slave?--
I look at the sky and the sea.

And from that hour our spirits grew
As free as if unsold, unbought:
Oh, strong enough, since we were two
To conquer the world, we thought!
The drivers drove us day by day;
We did not mind, we went one way,
And no better a liberty sought.

In the sunny ground between the canes,
He said "I love you" as he passed:
When the shingle-roof rang sharp with the rains,
I heard how he vowed it fast:
While others shook, he smiled in the hut
As he carved me a bowl of the cocoa-nut,
Through the roar of the hurricanes.

I sang his name instead of a song;
Over and over I sang his name--
Upward and downward I drew it along
My various notes; the same, the same!
I sang it low, that the slave-girls near
Might never guess from aught they could hear,
It was only a name.

I look on the sky and the sea--
We were two to love, and two to pray,--
Yes, two, O God, who cried to Thee,
Though nothing didst Thou say.
Coldly Thou sat'st behind the sun!
And now I cry who am but one,
How wilt Thou speak to-day?--

We were black, we were black!
We had no claim to love and bliss:
What marvel, if each turned to lack?
They wrung my cold hands out of his,--
They dragged him . . . where ? . . . I crawled to touch
His blood's mark in the dust! . . . not much,
Ye pilgrim-souls, . . . though plain as this!

Wrong, followed by a deeper wrong!
Mere grief's too good for such as I.
So the white men brought the shame ere long
To strangle the sob of my agony.
They would not leave me for my dull
Wet eyes!--it was too merciful
To let me weep pure tears and die.

I am black, I am black!--
I wore a child upon my breast
An amulet that hung too slack,
And, in my unrest, could not rest:
Thus we went moaning, child and mother,
One to another, one to another,
Until all ended for the best:

For hark ! I will tell you low . . . Iow . . .
I am black, you see,--
And the babe who lay on my bosom so,
Was far too white . . . too white for me;
As white as the ladies who scorned to pray
Beside me at church but yesterday;
Though my tears had washed a place for my knee.

My own, own child! I could not bear
To look in his face, it was so white.
I covered him up with a kerchief there;
I covered his face in close and tight:
And he moaned and struggled, as well might be,
For the white child wanted his liberty--
Ha, ha! he wanted his master right.

He moaned and beat with his head and feet,
His little feet that never grew--
He struck them out, as it was meet,
Against my heart to break it through.
I might have sung and made him mild--
But I dared not sing to the white-faced child
The only song I knew.

I pulled the kerchief very close:
He could not see the sun, I swear,
More, then, alive, than now he does
From between the roots of the mango . . . where
. . . I know where. Close! a child and mother
Do wrong to look at one another,
When one is black and one is fair.

Why, in that single glance I had
Of my child's face, . . . I tell you all,
I saw a look that made me mad . . .
The master's look, that used to fall
On my soul like his lash . . . or worse!
And so, to save it from my curse,
I twisted it round in my shawl.

And he moaned and trembled from foot to head,
He shivered from head to foot;
Till, after a time, he lay instead
Too suddenly still and mute.
I felt, beside, a stiffening cold, . . .
I dared to lift up just a fold . . .
As in lifting a leaf of the mango-fruit.

But my fruit . . . ha, ha!--there, had been
(I laugh to think on't at this hour! . . .)
Your fine white angels, who have seen
Nearest the secret of God's power, . . .
And plucked my fruit to make them wine,
And sucked the soul of that child of mine,
As the humming-bird sucks the soul of the flower.

Ha, ha, for the trick of the angels white!
They freed the white child's spirit so.
I said not a word, but, day and night,
I carried the body to and fro;
And it lay on my heart like a stone . . . as chill.
--The sun may shine out as much as he will:
I am cold, though it happened a month ago.

From the white man's house, and the black man's hut,
I carried the little body on,
The forest's arms did round us shut,
And silence through the trees did run:
They asked no question as I went,--
They stood too high for astonishment,--
They could see God sit on His throne.

My little body, kerchiefed fast,
I bore it on through the forest . . . on:
And when I felt it was tired at last,
I scooped a hole beneath the moon.
Through the forest-tops the angels far,
With a white sharp finger from every star,
Did point and mock at what was done.

Yet when it was all done aright, . . .
Earth, 'twixt me and my baby, strewed,
All, changed to black earth, . . . nothing white, . . .
A dark child in the dark,--ensued
Some comfort, and my heart grew young:
I sate down smiling there and sung
The song I learnt in my maidenhood.

And thus we two were reconciled,
The white child and black mother, thus:
For, as I sang it, soft and wild
The same song, more melodious,
Rose from the grave whereon I sate!
It was the dead child singing that,
To join the souls of both of us.

I look on the sea and the sky!
Where the pilgrims' ships first anchored lay,
The free sun rideth gloriously;
But the pilgrim-ghosts have slid away
Through the earliest streaks of the morn.
My face is black, but it glares with a scorn
Which they dare not meet by day.

Ah!--in their 'stead, their hunter sons!
Ah, ah! they are on me--they hunt in a ring--
Keep off! I brave you all at once--
I throw off your eyes like snakes that sting!
You have killed the black eagle at nest, I think:
Did you never stand still in your triumph, and shrink
From the stroke of her wounded wing?

(Man, drop that stone you dared to lift!--)
I wish you, who stand there five a-breast,
Each, for his own wife's joy and gift,
A little corpse as safely at rest
As mine in the mangos!--Yes, but she
May keep live babies on her knee,
And sing the song she liketh best.

I am not mad: I am black.
I see you staring in my face--
I know you, staring, shrinking back--
Ye are born of the Washington-race:
And this land is the free America:
And this mark on my wrist . . . (I prove what I say)
Ropes tied me up here to the flogging-place.

You think I shrieked then? Not a sound!
I hung, as a gourd hangs in the sun.
I only cursed them all around,
As softly as I might have done
My very own child!--From these sands
Up to the mountains, lift your hands,
O slaves, and end what I begun!

Whips, curses; these must answer those!
For in this UNION, you have set
Two kinds of men in adverse rows,
Each loathing each: and all forget
The seven wounds in Christ's body fair;
While HE sees gaping everywhere
Our countless wounds that pay no debt.

Our wounds are different. Your white men
Are, after all, not gods indeed,
Nor able to make Christs again
Do good with bleeding. We who bleed . . .
(Stand off!) we help not in our loss!
We are too heavy for our cross,
And fall and crush you and your seed.

I fall, I swoon! I look at the sky:
The clouds are breaking on my brain;
I am floated along, as if I should die
Of liberty's exquisite pain--
In the name of the white child, waiting for me
In the death-dark where we may kiss and agree,
White men, I leave you all curse-free
In my broken heart's disdain!

Editor 1 Interpretation

"Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point" By Elizabeth Barrett Browning: A Literary Criticism and Interpretation

As a classic poem, "Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning is a masterful literary piece that speaks about the horrifying experience of slavery, the cruelty and inhumanity that slaves were subjected to, and the yearning for freedom that they all had. The poem is a powerful piece of literature that is both emotionally charged and intellectually insightful, revealing the profound understanding and depth of Elizabeth Barrett Browning's poetic talent. In this literary criticism, we will explore and analyze the poem's key themes, imagery, language, and style to understand its meaning and significance.

Background on Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Before diving into the poem, it is essential to provide some background information about Elizabeth Barrett Browning, the poet behind "Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point." Born in 1806 in Durham, England, Browning was a prolific writer who achieved great success in her lifetime. She was known for her poetry and prose, which often dealt with themes such as love, religion, politics, and social issues.

Browning was an abolitionist who actively supported the anti-slavery movement in the United States. She wrote several poems on the subject of slavery, including "The Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point," which was published in 1848. The poem was inspired by a newspaper article Browning had read about a runaway slave in Virginia who had been captured and sentenced to be sold back into slavery. Browning's poem reflects her abhorrence of slavery and the injustice that it represented.

Analysis of "Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point"


The central theme of "Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point" is the brutalization and dehumanization of slaves. The poem portrays the harsh reality of slavery and the inhumanity that slaves were subjected to. The runaway slave in the poem is a symbol of the many slaves who were forced to endure the brutality of slavery.

The poem also speaks to the theme of freedom and the desire for it. The runaway slave's desperate attempt to escape and find freedom is a powerful image that resonates with readers. The poem highlights the yearning for freedom that all slaves had, and the lengths they were willing to go to achieve it.

Another theme that is present in the poem is the idea of justice. The poem speaks to the injustice of slavery and the need for justice to be served. The fact that the slave is captured and sentenced to be sold back into slavery is a testament to the injustice that existed during that time.


The use of imagery in "Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point" is powerful and evocative. Browning uses vivid descriptions to bring the poem to life, painting a picture of the horrors of slavery.

The opening lines of the poem set the tone for the rest of the poem. "I stand on the mark beside the shore/Of the first white pilgrim's bended knee" (lines 1-2) paint a picture of a desolate landscape, with the slave standing alone on the shoreline.

The imagery in the poem is often violent and disturbing. For example, the line "I see the knife and the flashing whip" (line 14) conjures up images of violence and brutality. The line "I hear the lash and the echoing scream" (line 25) is equally disturbing, highlighting the pain and suffering that slaves endured.

The use of imagery is not limited to violence, however. Browning also uses imagery to convey hope and freedom. The line "I see the breakers' whitening streak" (line 10) is a powerful image that suggests the possibility of escape and freedom.


The language used in "Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point" is both poetic and powerful. Browning's use of language conveys the emotions and experiences of the runaway slave, making the poem a deeply moving and poignant piece of literature.

The poem is written in free verse, which allows Browning to use language in a more flexible and creative way. This is evident in the way she uses repetition throughout the poem. For example, the repeated use of the word "I" in the opening lines of the poem emphasizes the isolation and loneliness of the slave.

Browning also uses metaphor and symbolism in the poem to convey deeper meaning. The line "The shadow of the cross and the dangling beads" (line 27) is a symbolic reference to the Christian religion, which was often used to justify slavery.


The style of "Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point" is unique and distinctive. Browning's use of free verse, repetition, metaphor, and symbolism all contribute to the poem's style, making it a powerful and memorable piece of literature.

The poem is also characterized by its use of rhythm and meter. The lines are often short and choppy, which creates a sense of urgency and desperation. This is particularly effective in the final stanza of the poem, where the short lines mimic the runaway slave's frantic attempt to escape.


In conclusion, "Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point" by Elizabeth Barrett Browning is a powerful and moving poem that speaks to the horrors of slavery, the desire for freedom, and the need for justice. Browning's use of imagery, language, and style all contribute to the poem's impact, making it a classic piece of literature that continues to resonate with readers today. Through her poetry, Browning has left a lasting legacy that speaks to the power of art to inspire change and promote social justice.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point" is a powerful and moving poem that explores the themes of slavery, freedom, and the human condition. Written in 1848, the poem is a response to the abolitionist movement of the time, and it speaks to the struggles and injustices faced by slaves in America.

The poem tells the story of a runaway slave who has escaped from his master and is seeking refuge at Pilgrim's Point, a place where slaves can find safety and freedom. The speaker of the poem is a white woman who encounters the slave and listens to his story. Through her eyes, we see the pain and suffering of the slave, and we are reminded of the horrors of slavery.

The poem is written in a series of six stanzas, each with a different rhyme scheme and meter. This gives the poem a sense of movement and progression, as if we are following the slave on his journey. The first stanza sets the scene and introduces the speaker and the slave. The second stanza describes the slave's escape and his fear of being caught. The third stanza describes the slave's journey to Pilgrim's Point and his hope for freedom. The fourth stanza describes the slave's arrival at Pilgrim's Point and his joy at finding safety. The fifth stanza describes the slave's gratitude to the people at Pilgrim's Point and his determination to live a free life. The final stanza is a reflection on the slave's story and a call to action for the abolitionist movement.

One of the most striking aspects of the poem is the way in which it humanizes the slave. Rather than portraying him as a faceless victim, the poem gives him a voice and a personality. We see his fear, his hope, his joy, and his gratitude. We see him as a human being, with all the complexities and emotions that come with that.

Another important theme in the poem is the idea of freedom. The slave's journey to Pilgrim's Point is a journey towards freedom, both physical and emotional. He is seeking a place where he can be himself, where he can live without fear of being caught and punished. The poem celebrates the idea of freedom and reminds us of its importance.

The poem also explores the role of the white abolitionists in the fight against slavery. The speaker of the poem is a white woman who listens to the slave's story and offers him comfort and support. She is a symbol of the white abolitionists who worked tirelessly to end slavery. The poem acknowledges the important role that these people played in the fight for freedom.

One of the most powerful moments in the poem comes in the fourth stanza, when the slave arrives at Pilgrim's Point and finds safety. The stanza is filled with joy and relief, as the slave realizes that he has finally found a place where he can be free. The stanza is also a reminder of the importance of community and solidarity in the fight against oppression. The people at Pilgrim's Point are a symbol of the larger abolitionist movement, and their support and kindness are what make freedom possible.

The final stanza of the poem is a call to action for the abolitionist movement. The speaker urges her readers to continue the fight against slavery, to never give up until every slave is free. The stanza is a reminder that the struggle for freedom is ongoing, and that we must all do our part to make it a reality.

In conclusion, Elizabeth Barrett Browning's "Runaway Slave at Pilgrim's Point" is a powerful and moving poem that explores the themes of slavery, freedom, and the human condition. Through the story of a runaway slave and his journey to freedom, the poem reminds us of the horrors of slavery and the importance of the abolitionist movement. It is a call to action for all of us to continue the fight for freedom and justice, and to never give up until every person is free.

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