The Quadroon Girl Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Slaver in the broad lagoon
        Lay moored with idle sail;
He waited for the rising moon,
        And for the evening gale.

Under the shore his boat was tied,
        And all her listless crew
Watched the gray alligator slide
        Into the still bayou.

Odors of orange-flowers, and spice,
        Reached them from time to time,
Like airs that breathe from Paradise
        Upon a world of crime.

The Planter, under his roof of thatch,
        Smoked thoughtfully and slow;
The Slaver's thumb was on the latch,
        He seemed in haste to go.

He said, "My ship at anchor rides
        In yonder broad lagoon;
I only wait the evening tides,
        And the rising of the moon.

Before them, with her face upraised,
        In timid attitude,
Like one half curious, half amazed,
        A Quadroon maiden stood.