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THE NEGRO'S COMPLAINT.
FORCED from home and all its pleasures,
Afric's coast I left forlorn ;
O'er the raging billows borne.
Paid my price in paltry gold; But, though slave they have enrolld me
Minds are never to be sold.
Still in thought as free as ever,
What are England's rights, I ask, Me from my delights to sever,
Me to torture, me to task ? Fleecy locks and black complexion
Cannot forfeit nature's claim; 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.
THE NEGRO's COMPLAINT.
Is there, as ye sometimes tell us,
Is there one who reigns on high ?
Speaking from his throne the sky ?
Matches, blood-extorting screws,
Agents of his will to use?
Hark! he answerswild tornadoes,
Strewing yonder sea with wrecks; Wasting towns, plantations, meadows,
Are the voice with which he speaks.
Afric's sons should undergo,
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 ;
To the man-degrading mart
Only by a broken heart;
Deem our nation brutes no longer,
Till some reason ye shall find
Than the colour of our kind.
Slaves of gold, whose sordid dealings
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,
and rum? Especially sugar, so needful we see ? What, give up our desserts, 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.
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 ?
PITY FOR POOR AFRICANS.
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! What! rob our good neighbour! I pray you
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,
shall have a share, If not, you shall have neither apple nor pear."
They spoke, and Tom ponder'd—“I see they will
“ If the matter depended alone upon me, [tree; 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,
So pleasant it seem'd as I lay.
Far hence to the westward I sail'd,
And the fresh-blowing breeze never fail'd.
In the steerage a woman I saw,
Such at least was the form that she wore,
Ne'er taught me by woman before.
Shed light, like a sun on the waves,
“ I go to make freemen of slaves.”
Then, raising her voice to a strain
The sweetest that ear ever heard,
of the slave's broken chain,