THIRTEEN years ago, I came to your door, a weary fugitive from chains and stripes. I was a stranger, and you took me in. I was hungry, and you fed me. Naked was I, and you clothed me. Even a name by which to be known among men, slavery had denied me. You bestowed upon me your own. Base, indeed, should I be, if I ever forget what I owe to you, or do anything to disgrace that honored name!
As a slight testimony of my gratitude to my earliest benefactor, I take the liberty to inscribe to you this little narrative of the sufferings from which I was fleeing when you had compassion upon me. In the multitude that you have succored, it is very possible that you may not remember me; but until I forget God and myself, I can never forget you.
Your grateful friend,
ILLIAM WELLS BROWN.
BY W. W. BROWN.
FLING out the Anti-Slavery flag
On every swelling breeze;
And let its folds wave o’er the land,
And o’er the raging seas,
Till all beneath the standard sheet
With new allegiance bow,
And pledge themselves to onward bear
The emblem of their vow.