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To purify their wine some people bleed
A lamb into the barrel, and succeed; COME down in thy profoundest gloom,
No nostrum, planters say, is half so good Without one vagrant firefly's light,
To make fine sugar, as a negro's blood. Beneath thine ebon arch entomb
Now lambs and negroes both are harmless Earth, from the gaze of heaven, 0 night!

A deed of darkness must be done,
And thence perhaps this wondrous virtue Put out the moon, hold back the sun.

'Tis in the blood of innocence alone

Are these the criminals, that flee Good cause why planters never try their own. Like deeper shadows th gh the shade!

A flickering lamp, from tree to tree

Betrays their path along the glade,

Led by a Negro;-now they stand,

Two trembling women, hand in band. ANON. I HEARD that Negro, on his lowly bed, A grave, an open grave appears, Thus forc'd to bid to earthly hopes adieu : O’er this in agony they bend, I heard him pray for mercy on the head Wet the fresh turf with bitter tears, Of him, whose bitter wrath his brother Sighs following sighs their bosoms rend; slew!

These are not murderers;—these have known Lonely he lay, but still the sufferer knew, Grief more bereaving than their own. That more than this his heavenly master bore,

Oft through the gloom their streaming eyes When on the cross, expos'd to public Look forth for what they fear to meet : view,

It comes;—they catch a glimpse ;-it flies: His dying breath forgiveness did implore, Quick glancing lights, slow-trampling feet, For those whose bellish hate was glutted Amidst the cane-crops, seen, heard, gone, with his gore !

Return, and in dead march move on.

A stern procession -gleaming arms,

And spectral conntenances dart,
By the red torch-flame, wild alarms,

And withering pangs thro' either heart;
A corpse amidst the group is borne,
A prisoner's corpse who died last morn.

I turn'd to these,--from them one echo ran-
“ The right avenger of the slave, is man"-
Man was my fellow; in his sight I stood,
Wept, and besought him by the voice of

blood :
Sternly he look'd as proud on earth he trod,
Then said, “The avenger of the slave is

I looked in prayer towards heaven-awhile

'twas still,
And then metbought God's voice replied

“I will."

Not by the slave-lord's justice slain,

That doomed him to a traitor's death; While royal mercy sped in vain,

O’er land and sea to spare his breath ; Bat the frail life that warm'd this clay, Man could not give, nor take away.

His vengeance and his grace, alike,

Were impotent to save or kill;
He may not lift his sword, or strike,

Nur turn its edge aside, at will:

'Twas in the glad season of spring, Here, by one sovereign act and deed, Asleep at the dawn of the day, God cancell'd all that man decreed. I dreamed what I cannot but sing,

So pleasant it seemed as I lay; Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,

I dreamed that on ocean afloat, That corpse is to the grave consigned; Far hence to the westward I sailed, The scene departs; this buried trust, While the billows high-lifted the boat,

The Judge of quick and dead shall find, And the fresh blowing breeze never failed. When things that Time and Deatb have seal'd,

In the steerage a woman I saw, Shall be in flaming fire reveal'd.

Such at least was the form that she wore,

Whose beauty impressed me with awe, The fire shall try thee, then like gold,

Ne'er taught me by woman before.
Prisoner of hopel await the test,

She sat, and a shield at her side
And 0, when truth alone is told,

Shed light, like a sun on the waves, Be thy clear innocence confest!

And smiling divinely, she criedThe fire shall try thy foes ;-may they “I go to make freemen of slaves.” Find mercy in that dreadful day.

Then raising her voice to a strain

The sweetest that ear ever heard,
She sung of the slave's broken chain,

Wherever her glory appeared.
THE AVENGER OF THE SLAVE. Some clouds which had over us hung,

Fled, chased by her melody clear,

And methought while she liberty sung, " Who shall avenge the slave?" I stood and 'Twas liberty only to bear.

cried, “ The earth, the earth!" the echoing sea Thus swiftly dividing the flood, replied,

T'o a slave-cultured island we came, I turned me to the ocean, but each wave Where a demon, her enemy, stoodDeclined to be the avenger of the slave. Oppression his terrible wame. “ Who shall avenge the slave?" my species In his hand, as the sign of his sway, cry

A scourge hung with lashes he bore, “The winds, the floods, the lighữning of the And stood looking out for his prey sky;"

From Africa's sorrowful shore,


But soon as approaching the land

That goddess-like woman he viewed, The scoarge he let fall from his band,

With blood of his subjects imbrued. I saw him both sicken and die,

And the moment the monster expired, Heard shouts, tbat 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

guideThat Britannia, renowned o'er the waves

For the hatred, she ever has shown, To the black-sceptred rulers of slaves,

Resolves to have done of her own.

In Glory's circling arms the hero bled,
While Victory bound the laurel on his head;
At once immortal, in both worlds, became
His soaring spirit and abiding name :
- She thought of Pitt, heart-broken, on bis

bier; And “O my Country!" echoed in her ear: -She thought of Fox;-she heard him

faintly speak, His parting breath grew cold upon her cheek, His dying accents trembled into air; “Spare injared Africa! the Negro spare!" She started from her trance !--and, ronnd

the shore, Beheld her supplicating sons once more, Pleading the suit so long, so vainly tried, Renew'd, resisted, promised, pledged, de

nied, The Negro's claim to all his Maker gave, And all the tyrant ravished trom the slave: Her yielding beart confess'd the righteous

claim, Sorrow had soften'd it, and love o'ercame; Shame flush'd her poble cheek, her bosom

burn'd; To helpless, hopeless, Africa she turn’d; She saw her sister in the Mourner's face, And rush'd with tears into her dark embrace. “All hail !"exclaim'd the Empress of the sea, “ Thy chains are broken, Africa be free!" All bail!" replied the Mourner, « Sbe

who broke My bonds, shall never wear a stranger's





High on her rock, in solitary state, Sublimely musing, pale Britannia sate; Her awful forehead on her spear reclined, Her robe and tresses streaming with the

wind; Chill through her frame foreboding tremors

crept; The mother thought upon her sons, and wept: -She thought of Nelson in the battle slain, And his last signal beaming o'er the main ;

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And roam along, the world's tired denizen, | I would not be a leaf to die,
With none to bless us, none whom we can Without recording sorrow's sigh.


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Minions of splendour shrinking from dis- | The woods and winds, with sudden wail, tress!

Tell all the same unvaried tale ;
None that, with kindred consciousness I've none to smile when I am free,

And, when I sigh, to sigh with me.
If we were not, would seem to smile the

Yet in my dreams form I view,
Of all that flatter'd, follow'd, sought, and

That thinks on me, and loves me too; sued ;

I start, and when the vision's flown, This is to be alone; this, this is solitude ! I weep that I am all alone.

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