Those hangings with their worn-out graces, They overwhelm me with the spleen. (And raised her voice, and frowned beside) You are so sadly deaf, my dear, What shall I do to make you hear? Well, I protest 'tis past all bearing- Alas! and is domestic strife, To gratify a fretful passion, And tumult, and intestine war. The love, that cheers life's latest stage, Proof against sickness and old age, Preserved by virtue from declension, Becomes not weary of attention; But lives, when that exterior grace, Which first inspired the flame decays. 'Tis gentle, delicate, and kind, To faults compassionate or blind, And will with sympathy endure Those evils, it would gladly cure: But angry, coarse, and harsh expression Shows love to be a mere profession; Proves that the heart is none of his, Or soon expels him if it is. THE NEGRO'S COMPLAINT. FORCED from home and all its pleasures, To increase a stranger's treasures, Men from England bought and sold me,, Still in thought as free as ever, What are England's rights, I ask, Me from my delights to sever, Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same. Why did all creating nature Make the plant for which we toil? Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted, Lolling at your jovial boards; Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets, your cane affords. Is there, as ye sometimes tell us, Hark! he answers-Wild tornadoes, By our blood in Afric wasted, Ere our necks received the chain; By the miseries we have tasted, Crossing in your barks the main; By our sufferings, since ye brought us To the man-degrading mart; All-sustained by patience taught us Orly by a broken heart: Deem our nation brutes no longer, PITY FOR POOR AFRICANS. Video meliora proboque Deteriora sequar.— I own I am shocked at the purchase of slaves, And fear those, who buy them and sell them, are knaves; What I hear of their hardships, their tortures and groans, Is almost enough to draw pity from stones. I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, What give up our deserts, our coffee, and tea. 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. |