Confiders all injuftice with a frown;
But marks the man that treads his fellow down.
Begone!-the whip and bell in that hard hand
Are hateful enfigns of ufurp'd command.
Not Mexico could purchase kings a claim
To fcourge him, weariness his only blame.
Remember, heav'n has an avenging rod-
To fmite the poor is treafon against God!
Trouble is grudgingly and hardly brook'd,
While life's fublimeft joys are overlook'd:
We wander o'er a fun-burnt thirfty foil,
Murm'ring and weary of our daily toil,
Forget t' enjoy the palm-tree's offer'd shade,
Or taste the fountain in the neighb'ring glade:
Elfe who would lofe, that had the pow'r t' improve,
Th' occafion of transmuting fear to love?
Oh, 'tis a godlike privilege to fave!
And he that scorns it is himself a flave.
Inform his mind-one flash of heav'nly day
Would heal his heart and melt his chains away.
"Beauty for afhes" is a gift indeed!
And flaves, by truth enlarg'd, are doubly freed.
Then would he fay, fubmiflive at thy feet,
While gratitude and love made service sweet,
My dear deliv❜rer out of hopeless night,
Whose bounty bought me but to give me light,
I was a bondman on my native plain;
Sin forg'd, and ignorance made fast, the chain;
Thy lips have fhed inftruction as the dew,
Taught me what path to fhun and what purfue;
Farewell, my former joys! I figh no more
For Africa's once lov'd, benighted shore;
Serving a benefactor, I am free-
At my best home, if not exil'd from thee.
Some men make gain a fountain, whence proceeds
A ftream of lib'ral and heroic deeds.
The fwell of pity, not to be confin'd
Within the fcanty limits of the mind,
Difdains the bank, and throws the golden fands,
A rich depofit, on the bord'ring lands:
These have an ear for his paternal call,
Who makes fome rich for the fupply of all;
God's gift with pleasure in his praise employ,
And THORNTON is familiar with the joy.
Oh, could I worship aught beneath the skies
That earth hath feen, or fancy can devise,
Thine altar, facred liberty, fhould stand,
Built, by no mercenary vulgar hand,
With fragrant turf, and flow'rs as wild and fair
As ever drefs'd a bank, or fcented fummer air!
Duly, as ever on the mountain's height
The peep of morning fhed a dawning light,
Again, when ev'ning in her fober vest
Drew the gray curtain of the fading west,
My foul fhould yield thee willing thanks and praise For the chief bleffings of my faireft days:
But that were facrilege--praife is not thine,
But his who gave thee, and preserves thee mine: Elfe I would fay, and as I fpake bid fly
A captive bird into the boundless fky,
This triple realm adores thee-thou art come
From Sparta hither, and art here at home.
We feel thy force still active, at this hour
Enjoy immunity from prieftly pow'r,
While conscience, happier than in ancient
Owns no fuperior but the God fhe fears.
Propitious fpirit! yet expunge a wrong
Thy rights have fuffer'd, and our land, too long. Teach mercy to ten thousand hearts, that share
The fears and hopes of a commercial care.
Prifons expect the wicked, and were built
To bind the lawless, and to punish guilt;
But shipwreck, earthquake, battle, fire, and flood,
Are mighty mischiefs, not to be withstood;
And honest merit stands on flipp'ry ground,
Where covert guile and artifice abound.
Let just restraint, for public peace defign'd,
Chain up the wolves and tigers of mankind;
The foe of virtue has no claim to thee-
But let infolvent innocence go free.
Patron of else the most defpis'd of men,
Accept the tribute of a stranger's pen;
Verfe, like the laurel, its immortal meed,
Should be the guerdon of a noble deed;
I may alarm thee, but I fear the shame
(Charity chofen as my theme and aim)
I muft incur, forgetting HOWARD's name.
Bleft with all wealth can give thee, to refign
Joys doubly sweet to feelings quick as thine,
To quit the blifs thy rural scenes bestow
To feek a nobler amidst scenes of woe,
To traverse feas, range kingdoms, and bring home,
Not the proud monuments of Greece or Rome,
But knowledge fuch as only dungeons teach,
And only fympathy like thine could reach;
That grief, fequefter'd from the public stage,
Might smooth her feathers, and enjoy her cage;
Speaks a divine ambition, and a zeal,
The boldest patriot might be proud to feel.
Oh that the voice of clamour and debate,
That pleads for peace 'till it disturbs the state,
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