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By our blood in Afric wasted,
Crossing in your barks the main;
Deem our nation brutes no longer,
Slaves of gold, whose sordid dealings
PITY FOR POOR AFRICANS
Video meliora proboque,
I OWN I am shocked at the purchase of slaves, And fear those who buy them and sell them are knaves;
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,
If foreigners likewise would give up the trade,
Your scruples and arguments bring to my mind
A youngster at school, more sedate than the rest,
He was shocked, sir, like you, and answered -" Oh no!
What! rob our good neighbor? 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,
They spoke, and Tom pondered "I see they will
Poor man! what a pity to injure him so!
Poor man! I would save him his fruit if I could, 35 But staying behind will do him no good.
"If the matter depended alone upon me,
His apples might hang till they dropped from the tree;
His scruples thus silenced, Tom felt more at ease, And went with his comrades the apples to seize; He blamed and protested, but joined 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 sailed,
While the billows high lifted the boat,
And the fresh-blowing breeze never failed.
In the steerage a woman I saw;
Such at least was the form that she wore, 10 Whose beauty impressed me with awe,
Ne'er taught me by woman before. She sat, and a shield at her side
Shed light, like a sun on the waves, And smiling divinely, she cried
"I go to make freemen of slaves."
Then raising her voice to a strain
The sweetest that ear ever heard,
Thus swiftly dividing the flood,
To a slave-cultured island we came,
In his hand, as the sign of his sway,
From Africa's sorrowful shore.
But soon as approaching the land,
And, the moment the monster expired,
Awaking, how could I but muse
At what such a dream should betide?
For the hatred she ever has shown
THE NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM
A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long