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Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat
With stripes, that mercy with a bleeding heart
Weeps when she fees inflicted on a beait.
Then what is man? And what man seeing this,
And having human feelings, does not blush
And hang his head, to think himself a man?
I would not have a flave to till my ground,
To carry me, to fan me while I ileep,
And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth
That finews bought and fold have ever earn'd.
No: dear as freedom is, and in my heart's
Just estimation priz'd above all price, a
I had much rather be myself the slave,
And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him.
We have no llaves at home-Then why abroad?
And they themselves once ferried o'er the wave,
That parts us, are emancipate and loos'd.
Slaves cannot breathe in England; if their lungs
Reccive our air, that moment they are free,
They touch our country, and their thackles fall.
That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud
And jealous of the bleffing. Spread it then,
And let it circulate through ev'ry vein
Of all your empire. That where Britain's power
Is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too.

SICIL AN EARTHQUAKES:

[From the same Poem.]
A LAS for Sicily! rude fragments now
A Lie scatter'd where the fhapely column stoodi
Her palaces are dust. In all her streets
The voice of finging and the sprightly chord
Are filent Revelry, and dance, and thow
Suffer a syncope and folemn pause,
While God performs upon the trembling stage
Of his own works, his dreadful part alone.
How does the earth receive him? With what signs
Of gratulation and delight, her king ?
Pours the not all her choicest fruits abroad,
Her sweetest flow'rs, her aromatic gums,
Disclosing paradise where'er he treads?
She quakes at his approach. Her hollow womb,
Conceiving thunders through a thousand deeps
And fiery carerns, roars beneath his fdor.
The hills move lightly and the mountains smoke,
For he has touch'd them. From th'extremest point
...Of elevation down into th'abyss,

His wrath is busy and his frown is felt. The rocks fall headlong and the vallies rise, The rivers die into offensive pools, And, charged with putrid verdure, breathe a grofs And mortal nuisance into all the air. What tilid was, by transformation strange Grows fluid, and the fixt and rooted earth Tormented into billows hcares and swells, Or with vortiginous and hideous whirl Sucks down its prey insatiable. Immense The tumult and the overthrow, the pings And agonies of human and of brute Multitudes, fugitive on every lide, And fugitive in vain. The Tylvan scene Migrates uplifted, and with all its foil Alighting in far distant fields, finds out A new poffetfor, and survives the change. Ocean has caught the frenzy, and upwrought To an enormous and o'erbearing height, Not by a mighty wind, but by that voice Which winds and waves obey, invades the shore Refiftless. Never such a sudden flood, Upridged so high, and sent on such a charge, Posless”d an inland scene. Where now the throng That press'd the beach, and hasty to depart, Look'd to the sea for safety? They are gone, Gone with the refluent wave into the deep, A prince with half his people. Ancient tow'rs, And roofs embattled high, the gloomy scenes Where beauty oft and letter'd worth consume Life in the unproductive shades of death, Fall prone ; the pale inhabitants come farth, And, happy in their unforeseen release From all the rigors of restraint, enjoy The terrors of the day that fets them free. Who then that has thee, would not hold thee faste Freedom ! whom they that Lufe thee so regret, That ev'n a judgment making way for thee, Seems in their eyes a mercy for thy fake.

DOMESTIC LIFE in the COUNTRY.

[From the same Poem.]

H friendly to the best pursuits of man,

Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace,
Doineltic life, in rural leisure pass'd!
Few know thy value, and few talle thy sweets,
Though many boail thy favours, and áffe &

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To understand and chruse thee for their own.
But foolish man foregoes his proper bliss
Ev'n as his first progenitor, and quits,
Though placed in paradise (for earth has still
Some traces of her youthful beauty left)
Substantial happiness for transient joy.
Scenes form'd for contemplation, and to nurse
The growing seeds of wisdom ; that suggeft,
By ev'ry pleasing image they present,
Reflections such as meliorate the heart,
Compose the pailions, and exalt the mind;
Scenes such as there, 'iis his supreme delight
To fill with riot and defile with blood.
Should suire contagion kind to the poor brutes
We perfecute, annihilate the tribes
That draw the sportsman over hill and dale .
Fearless, and rapt away from all his cares;
Should never game-toul hatch her eggs again,
Nor baised hook deceive the fishes eye;
Could pageantry, and dance, and feast and song
Be quell'd in all our summer-month retreats;
How many feit-dciuded nymphs and swains,
Who dream they have a tale for fields and groves,
Would find them hideous nurs’ries of the spleen,
And crowd the roads, impatient for the town!
They love the country, and none else, who seek
For their own like its filence and its Made.
Delights which who would leave, that has a heart
Susceptible of pity, or a mind
Cultured and capable of sober thought,
For all the favage din of the swift pack
And clamours of the field ? detefted sport,
That owes its pleasures to another's pain,
That feeds upon the fobs and dying shrieks
Of harmless nature, dumb, but yet endued
With eloquence that agonies inspire
Of filent tears and heart-diftending sighs!
Vain tears, alas! and lighs that never find
A corresponding tone in jovial souls..
Well-one at least is safe. One shelter'd haré
Has never heard the sanguinary yell
Of cruel man, exulting in her woes.
Innocent partner of my peaceful home,
Whom ten long years experience of my care
Has made at last familiar, she has lost
Much of her vigilant instinctive dread,
Not needful here, beneath a roof like mine.
Yes-thou mayest eat thy bread, and lick the hand
That feeds thee; thou may'st frolic on the floor
At evening, and at night retire secure

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To thy straw couch, and Ilumber unalarm'd. .
For I have gain'd thy confidence, have pledgid
All that is human in me, to protect
Thine unsuspecting gratitude and love.
If I survive thee I will dig thy grave,
And when I place thee in it, tighing say,
I knew at least one hare that had a friend.

How various his employments, whom the world
Calls idle, and who justly in return
Esteems that busy world an idler too!
Friends, books, a garden, and perhaps his pen,
Delightful industry enjoyed at home,
And nature in her cultivated trim
Dressed to his taite, inviting him abroad
Can he want occupation who has there?
Will he.be idle who has much r'enjoy?
Me, therefore, studious of laborious ease,
Not flothful; happy to deceive the time,
Not watte it; and aware that human life
Is but a loan to be repaid with use,
When he shall call his debtors to account,
From whom are all our blessings, bus'ness finds
Ev'n here. While sedulous I seek t'improve,
At least neglect not, or leave unemploy'd,
The mind he gave me; driving it, though slack
Too oft, and inuch impeded in its work
By causes not to be divulg'd in vain,
To its just point the service of mankind..
He that attends to his interior self,
That has a heart and keeps it: has a miad
That hungers, and supplies it ; and wbo seeks
A social, not a diifipated life,
Has business. Feels himself engag'd e' atchieve
No unimportant, though a filent talk.
A life all turbulence and noise, may seem
To him that leads it, wise and to be prais'd ;
But wisdom is a pearl with most success
Sought in still water, and beneath clear skies,
He that is ever occupied in storms,
Or dives not for it, or brings up instead,
Vainly industrious, a disgraceful prize.

The morning finds the self-fequefter'd man
Fresh for his talk, intend what taík he may.
Whether inclement seasons recommend
His warm but fimple home, where he enjoys
With her who Mhares his pleasures and his heart,
Sweet converse, lipping calm the fragrant lymph
Which neatly she prepares ; then to his book
Well chofen, and not Tullenly perused
In selfish filence, but imparted oft

The MULBERRY.TREE. A Tale.

[From the same Publication.]

TOR London's rich city, two Staffordshire rivains,

r Hight Johnton, hight Garrick, forsaking their plains,
Reach'd Shakespeare's own Stratford, where flows by his tomb
An Avon, as proudly as Tiber by Rome.
Now Garrick (sweet imp too of Nature was he)
Would climb and would eat from his Mulberry-tree;
Yet as Johnson, less frolic, was taller, was older,
He reach'd the first boughs by the help of his shoulder ;
Where, shelter'd from famine, from bailiffs, and weather,
Bards, critics, and players, fat crowded together ; :
Who devour'd in their reach all the fruit they could ineet,
The good, bad, indifferent, the bitter and sweet :
But Garrick climb'd high to a plentiful crop,
Then, heavens! what vagaries he play'd on the top !
How, now on the loose twigs, and now on the tight,
He stood on his head, and then bolted upright!
All features, all shapes, and all passions he tried ;
He danc'd and he strutted, he laugh'd and he cried,
He presented his face, and he show'd his backfide!

The noble, the vulgar, flock'd round him to see
What feats he perform’d in the Mulberry-tree :
He repeated the pastime, then open'd to speak,
But Johnson below mutter'd firophes of Greek,
While Garrick proclaim'd__such a plant never grew,
So foster'd by run-line, by soil, and by dew.
The palm-trecs of Delos, Phoenicia's sweet grove,
The oaks of Dodona, tho' hallow'd by Jove,
With all that antiquity shows to surpais us,
Compar'd to this tree, were mere fhrubs of Parnassus.
Not the beeches of Mantua, where Tityrus was laid,
Not all Vallombrofa produc'd such a fiadc,
That the myrtles of France, like the birch of the schools,
Were fit only for rods to whip Genius to rules ;
That to Stratford's old Mulberry, fairest and beit,
The cedars of Eden must bow their proud creít:
Then the fruit-like the loat in the Tub's pleasant Tale,
That was fish, fiefi, and custard, good claret, and ale-
It compriz'd every flavour, was ail, and was each,
Was grape, and was pine-apple, nectarine, and peach ;
Nay he swore, and his audience believ'd what he told,
That, under his touch it grew apples of gold.
Now he paus'd !-then recounted its virtues again
'Twas a wood for all use, bottom, top, bark, and grain :
It would saw into seats for an audience in full pits,
Into benches for judges, episcopal pulpits;

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