Each climate needs what other climes produce,
And offers fomething to the gen'ral use;
No land but liftens to the common call,
And in return receives fupply from all;
This genial intercourfe and mutual aid,
Cheers what were elfe an univerfal fhade,
Calls nature from her ivy-mantled den,
And foftens human rockwork into men.
Ingenious Art with her expreffive face
Steps forth to fashion and refine the race,
Not only fills neceffity's demand,
But overcharges her capacious hand;
Capricious tafte itself can crave no more,
Than fhe fupplies from her abounding store;
She ftrikes out all that luxury can ask,
And gains new vigour at her endless task.
Hers is the fpacious arch, the fhapely spire,
The painters pencil and the poets lyre;
From her the canvass borrows light and fhade,
And verfe more lafting, hues that never fade.
She guides the finger o'er the dancing keys,
Gives difficulty all the grace of ease,
And pours a torrent of fweet notes around,
Faft as the thirfting ear can drink the found:
These are the gifts of art, and art thrives moft,
Where commerce has enrich'd the busy coaft:
He catches all improvements in his flight,
Spreads foreign wonders in his country's fight,
Imports what others have invented well,
And ftirs his own to match them, or excel,
'Tis thus reciprocating each with each,
Alternately the nations learn and teach;
While Providence enjoins to every foul
An union with the vast terraqueous whole.
Heav'n speed the canyafs gallantly unfurl'd
To furnish and accommodate a world;
To give the Pole the produce of the fun,
And knit th' unfocial climates into one.-
Soft airs and gentle heavings of the wave
Impel the fleet whofe errand is to fave,
To fuccour wafted regions, and replace
The fmile of opulence in forrow's face.
Let nothing adverfe, nothing unforeseen,
Impede the bark that plows the deep ferene,
Charg'd with a freight transcending in its worth
The gems of India, nature's rarest birth,
That flies like Gabriel on his Lord's commands,
An herald of God's love, to pagan lands.
But ah ! what wish can profper, or what pray'r,
For merchants rich in cargoes of despair,
Who drive a loathfome traffic, gage and span,
And buy the mufcles and the bones of man?
The tender ties of father, husband, friend,
All bonds of nature in that moment end,
And each endures while yet he draws his breath,
A stroke as fatal as the scythe of death.
The fable warrior, frantic with regret
Of her he loves, and never can forget,
Lofes in tears the far receding fhore,
But not the thought that they must meet no more;
Depriv'd of her and freedom at a blow,
What has he left that he can yet forego?
Yes, to deep fadnefs fullenly refign'd,
He feels his body's bondage in his mind,
Puts off his gen'rous nature, and to fuit
His manners with his fate, puts on the brute.
Oh most degrading of all ills that wait
On man, a mourner in his beft eftate!
All other forrows virtue may endure,
And find fubmiffion more than half a cure;
Grief is itself a med'cine, and bestow'd
T'improve the fortitude that bears the load,
To teach the wand'rer, as his woes encreafe,
The path of wisdom, all whofe paths are peace,
But flav'ry!-virtue dreads it as her grave,
Patience itself is meannefs in a flave:
Or if the will and fovereignty of God
Bid fuffer it awhile, and kifs the rod,
Wait for the dawning of a brighter day,
And fnap the chain the moment when you may.
Nature imprints upon whate'er we see
That has a heart and life in it, be free;
The beafts are chartered-neither age nor force
Can quell the love of freedom in a horse:
He breaks the cord that held him at the rack,
And confcious of an unincumber'd back,
Snuffs up the morning air, forgets the rein,
Loofe fly his forelock and his ample mane,
Responsive to the diftant neigh he neighs,
Nor ftops, till overleaping all delays,
He finds the pasture where his fellows graze.
Can'ft thou, and honour'd with a Christian name, Buy what is woman-born, and feel no fhame ? Trade in the blood of innocence, and plead Expedience as a warrant for the deed?
may the wolf, whom famine has made bold
To quit the foreft and invade the fold;
So may the ruffian who with ghoftly glide,
Dagger in hand, fteals clofe to your bed-fide;
Not he, but his emergence forc'd the door,
He found it inconvenient to be poor.
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