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Hark! he answers -Wild tornadoes,
Strewing yonder sea with wrecks ; Wasting towns, plantations, meadows,
Are the voice with which he speaks. He, foreseeing what vexations
Afric's sons should undergo, Fixed their tyrants' habitations
Where his whirlwinds answer-no.
By our blood in Afric wasted,
Ere our necks received the chain ; By the miseries that we tasted,
Crossing in your barks the main ; By our sufferings since ye brought us,
To the man-degrading mart ;
Only by a broken heart ;
Till some reason ye shall find
Than the colour of our kind. 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.
I own I am shocked at the purchase of slaves,
I pity them greatly, but I must be mum,
If foreigners likewise would give up the trade,
Your scruples and arguments bring to my mind
A youngster at school more sedate than the rest,
He was shocked, sir, like you, and answered—- Oh no!
THE MORNING DREAM. 'Twas in the glad season of spring,
Asleep at the dawn of the day,
So pleasant it seemed as I lay;
Far hence to the westward I sailed, While the billows high-lifted the boat,
And the fresh-blowing breeze never failed.
In the steerage a woman I saw,
Such at least was the form that she wore, Whose beauty impressed 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 appeared.
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
Froin Africa's sorrowful shore.
But soon as approaching the land
That goddess-like woman he viewed, The scourge he let fall from his hand,
With 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, renowned 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.
NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.
A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long
admire my lamp, quoth he,