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Slaves of gold, whose sordid dealings
Tarnish all your boasted powers,
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,
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 ?
They práce, ad Too pooder d--I see they will
Prus man' what a pity to injure him so!
" 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,
Wherever her glory appear'd.
Some clouds, which had over us hung,
Fled, chased by her melody cleai, And methought while she liberty sung,
'Twas liberty only to hear.
Thus swiftly dividing the flood,
To a slave-cultured island we came,
Oppression his terrible name.
A scourge hung with lashes he bore,
From Africa's sorrowful shore.
But soon as, approaching the land,
That goddesslike woman he view'd, 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, renown'd 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.
THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF
SHOWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED, AND
CAME SAFE HOME AGAIN.
John GILPIN was a citizen
Of credit and renown,
Of famous London town.
John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear,
Though wedded we have been
No holiday have seen.
Tomorrow is our wedding-day,
And we will then repair
All in a chaise and pair.
My sister, and my sister's child,
Myself, and children three,
On horseback after we.
He soon replied, I do admire
Of womankind but one,
Therefore it shall be done.