I.
THE FATHER

Yanko! We leave the ship to-day:
We give our children to your care;
While o'er the sea's unruffled way
To yonder vessel we repair.

See how she strikes the gazer's eye,
With towering mast and canvass wide!
I know her gallant company;
One hour will bring us to her side.

And though the feast and song may flow,
As there our early friends we hail,
The sunset with its parting glow
Shall brighten our returning sail.

THE MOTHER

Yanko! To my loved boys be kind;
My thread of life to theirs is bound;
If they should suffer, I should find,
In my own soul, the rankling wound.

They long thy faithfulness have known;
We only ask thee now to prove,
What thou in other times hast shown,
That thou dost hold them in thy love.

Our boat will urge its joyful track
Over the sea's unruffled plain;
But soon to speed its journey back,
And bring us to the boys again.

THE CHILDREN

Oh, mother, yield not thus to fear,
When we are absent from your view;
The hours, with faithful Yanko near,
With sport and joy are ever new.

Around the ship he guides our feet,
And shows the mast, the ropes, the sail;
Or, seeking out some quiet seat,
Relates the sailor's wondrous tale.

YANKO.

Master and mistress! I will take
Care of my little masters here;
If they were hurt, my heart would break;
I love them too; ye need not fear.

I feel their sorrows, and am sad,
If but a swelling tear I see;
And not a pleasure makes them glad,
But brings its happiness to me.

I will not say what I would do,
To save them from the slightest smart;
Fearless I make appeal to you;
They have their image in my heart.

II.
'Twas thus the parting parents sought
The noble ship, that waiting lay;
And as they joyful went, they thought,
Ere long to urge their homeward way.

Some natural fears disturbed their mind;
But still they knew good Yanko's heart;
And doubted not, that one so kind
Would act the honorable part.

Meantime a sudden storm arose,
And wrapped the sea in deepest black;
In foaming piles the ocean flows,
And lightnings cleave their angry track.

The vessel, which so late they left,
Was dashed in fierceness to and fro;
Until of sail and mast bereft,
She settled gratefully low.

Then there were shrieks and agony;
The boat was hoisted; in it fast
The striving crew plunged hastily,
And Yanko and the boys came last.

And what was rending to the heart,
The boatmen hesitate to take them;
And make all ready to depart,
And to the raging sea forsake them.

The children, at good Yanko's side,
Looked up to see what he would do,
And in the tear he could not hide
The fullness of his friendship knew.

For then he felt the inward strife,
The grief which generous bosoms feel,
And gladly would have yielded life,
To save the boys he loved so well.

The boatmen eagerly he prayed,
That they the little boys would take,
And save them in their youth arrayed,
And save them for their parents' sake.

III.
Then rose the master of the boat,
Which scarce sustained the whelming tide,
And grief his hardy bosom smote,
As thus to Yanko he replied.

Whate'er I can I'll gladly do,
But if they enter, it will be,
Than then no place will be for you,
And you must perish in the sea.

Well, Yanko said, it matters not;
No worthless fear my breast annoys;
On such as I ne'er spend a thought;
Let Yanko perish; take the boys.

To them shall life its joys unfold;
The parent heart is bound to theirs;
But Yanko, when in death he's cold,
Has none his destiny that shares.

He spoke, and placed within the boat
The children to his charge consigned;
The little bark was soon afloat,
But noble Yanko staid behind.

The boys for sorrow could not speak,
But tears and sobs their anguish tell,
As Yanko, on the sinking deck,
Repeated loud his long farewell.

Good Yanko stood alone. His eye
Raised upward to the Lord of light;
The world's last look was passing by,
And vast Eternity in sight.

'Twas but a moment. Quick the wave
Rushed deeply o'er its sinking prize;
And swept his body to its grave,
And gave his spirit to the skies.

IV.
This is the story sad but true,
Showing good Yanko's noble feeling.
Reader! It has a word for you,
Unto your sympathies appealing.

There are some men, who scorning say,
The negroes are a lower race.
Did Yanko's generous deed betray
A lower, an ignoble place?

Where'er the sun the world doth bless,
Is there a white man, that doth bear
A soul, with which in nobleness
Poor Yanko's heart will not compare?

Judge not of virtue by a name,
Nor think to read it on the skin;
Honor in black and white's the same,
The stamp of glory is within.

Whate'er his color, man is man,
A negro's heart like any other;
And Heaven, in its capacious plan,
Bids us to treat him as a brother.