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Slaves of gold, whose sordid dealings
Tarnish all your boasted powers, Prove that you have human feelings
Ere you proudly question ours !
PITY FOR POOR AFRICANS.
Video meliora proboque,
I own I am shock'd at the purchase of slaves, And fear those who buy them and sell them are knaves;
[groans What I hear of their hardships, their tortures, and Is almost enough to draw pity from stones.
I pity them greatly, but I must be mum,
Besides, if we do, the French, Dutch, and Danes, Will heartily thank us, no doubt, for our pains: If we do not buy the poor creatures, they will; And tortures and groans will be multiplied still. If foreigners likewise would give up the trade, Much more in behalf of your wish might be said; But, while they get riches by purchasing blacks, Pray tell me why we may not also go snacks?
Your scruples and arguments bring to my mind
A youngster at school, more sedate than the rest,
He was shock’d, sir, like you, and answer'd• Oh, no!
[go; What! rob our good neighbour! I pray you don't Besides the man's poor, his orchard's his bread: Then think of his children, for they must be fed.'
• You speak very fine, and you look very grave,
They spoke, and Tom ponder'd--I see they will Poor man! whatsa pity to injure him so! [go : Poor man! I would save him his fruit if I could, But staying behind would do him no good.
• If the matter depended alone upon me, stree; His apples might hang till they dropp'd from the But since they will take them, I think I'll go too; . He will lose none by me, though I get a few.'
His scruples thus silenced, Tom felt more at ease, And went with his comrades the apples to seize; He blamed and protested, but join'd in the plan; He shared in the plunder, but pitied the man.
THE MORNING DREAM. 'Twas in the glad season of spring,
Asleep at the dawn of the day, I dream'd what I cannot but sing,
So pleasant it seem'd as I lay. I dream'd that, on ocean afloat,
Far hence to the westward I sail'd, While the billows high lifted the boat,
And the fresh-blowing breeze never fail'd. In the steerage a woman I saw,
Such at least was the form that she wore, Whose beauty impress’d me with awe,
Ne'er taught me by woman before. She sat, and a shield at her side
Shed light, like a sun on the waves, And, smiling divinely, she cried
• I go to make freemen of slaves.' Then raising her voice to a strain
The sweetest that ear ever heard,
Wherever her glory appear’d.
Fled, chased by her melody clear,
'Twas liberty only to hear, Thus swiftly dividing the flood,
To a slave-cultured island we came, Where a demon, her enemy, stood
Oppression his terrible name.
In his hand, as the sign of his sway,
A scourge hung with lashes he bore, And stood looking out for his prey
From Africa's sorrowful shore. But soon as approaching the land
That goddesslike woman he view'd, The scourge he let fall from his hand,
With the blood of his subjects imbrued. I saw him both sicken and die,
And the moment the monster expired Heard shouts that ascended the sky,
From thousands with rapture inspired. Awaking, how could I but muse
At what such a dream should betide ? But soon my ear caught the glad news,
Which served my weak thought for a guide That Britannia, renown'd o'er the waves
For the hatred she ever has shown To the black sceptred rulers of slaves,
Resolves to have none of her own.
THE RETIRED CAT.
Sometimes ascending, debonair,
But love of change it seems has place
A drawer, it chanced, at bottom lined With linen of the softest kind, With such as merchants introduce From India, for the ladies' use, A drawer impending o'er the rest, Half open in the topmost chest, Of depth enough, and none to spare, Invited her to slumber there; Puss with delight beyond expression Survey'd the scene and took possession.