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, 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. 216 THE NEGRO'S COMPLAINT. Is there, as ye sometimes tell us, Speaking from his throne the sky? Hark! he answers-wild tornadoes, By our blood in Afric wasted, Ere our necks received the chain; Deem our nation brutes no longer, Than the colour of our kind. Slaves of gold, whose sordid dealings PITY FOR POOR AFRICANS. Video meliora proboque, Deteriora sequor. 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, 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? 218 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 don't go; 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, If you They spoke, and Tom ponder'd-"I see they will go; Poor man! what a pity to injure him so! Poor man! I would save him his fruit if I could, "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, 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, Shed light, like a sun on the waves, Then, raising her voice to a strain The sweetest that ear ever heard, |