ON
THE
BILL
WHICH
WAS
PASSED
IN
ENGLAND
FOR
REGULATING
THE
SLAVE-TRADE
;
A
SHORT
TIME
BEFORE
ITS
ABOLITION
.
THE
hollow
winds
of
night
no
more
In
wild
,
unequal
cadence
pour
,
On
musing
fancy's
wakeful
ear
,
The
groan
of
agony
severe
From
yon
dark
vessel
,
which
contains
The
wretch
new
bound
in
hopeless
chains
!
Whose
soul
with
keener
anguish
bleeds
,
As
AFRIC'S
less'ning
shore
recedes
—
No
more
where
Ocean's
unseen
bound
Leaves
a
drear
world
of
waters
round
,
Between
the
howling
gust
,
shall
rise
The
stifled
captive's
latest
sighs
!
—
No
more
shall
suffocating
death
Seize
the
pent
victim's
sinking
breath
;
The
pang
of
that
convulsive
hour
,
Reproaching
man's
insatiate
power
;
Man
!
who
to
AFRIC'S
shore
has
past
,
Relentless
,
as
the
annual
blast
That
sweeps
the
Western
Isles
,
and
flings
Destruction
from
its
furious
wings
!
—
And
woman
,
she
,
too
weak
to
bear
The
galling
chain
,
the
tainted
air
,
—
Of
mind
too
feeble
to
sustain
The
vast
,
accumulated
pain
,
—
No
more
,
in
desperation
wild
,
Shall
madly
strain
her
gasping
child
;
With
all
the
mother
at
her
soul
,
With
eyes
where
tears
have
ceas'd
to
roll
,
Shall
catch
the
livid
infant's
breath
,
Then
sink
in
agonizing
death
!
BRITAIN
!
the
noble
,
blest
decree
That
soothes
despair
,
is
fram'd
by
thee
!
Thy
powerful
arm
has
interpos'd
,
And
one
dire
scene
for
ever
clos'd
;
Its
horror
shall
no
more
belong
To
that
foul
drama
,
deep
with
wrong
.
O
,
first
of
EUROPE'S
polish'd
lands
To
ease
the
captive's
iron
bands
;
Long
,
as
thy
glorious
annals
shine
,
This
proud
distinction
shall
be
thine
!
Not
first
alone
when
valour
leads
To
rush
on
danger's
noblest
deeds
;
When
mercy
calls
thee
to
explore
A
gloomy
path
,
untrod
before
,
Thy
ardent
spirit
springs
to
heal
,
And
,
greatly
gen'rous
,
dares
to
feel
!
—
Valour
is
like
the
meteor's
light
,
Whose
partial
flash
leaves
deeper
night
;
While
Mercy
,
like
the
lunar
ray
,
Gilds
the
thick
shade
with
softer
day
.
Blest
deed
!
that
met
consenting
minds
In
all
but
those
whom
av'rice
binds
,
—
Who
creep
in
interest's
crooked
ways
,
Nor
ever
pass
her
narrow
maze
;
Or
those
whom
hard
indiff'rence
steels
To
every
pang
another
feels
.
For
them
has
fortune
round
their
bowers
Twin'd
,
partial
nymph
!
her
lavish
flowers
;
For
them
,
from
unsunn'd
caves
,
she
brings
Her
summer
ice
;
for
them
she
springs
To
climes
where
hotter
suns
produce
The
richer
fruit's
delicious
juice
;
While
they
,
whom
wasted
blessings
tire
,
Nor
leave
one
want
to
feed
desire
,
With
cool
,
insulting
ease
demand
Why
,
for
yon
hopeless
,
captive
band
,
Is
ask'd
,
to
mitigate
despair
,
The
mercy
of
the
common
air
?
The
boon
of
larger
space
to
breathe
,
While
coop'd
that
hollow
deck
beneath
?
A
lengthen'd
plank
,
on
which
to
throw
Their
shackled
limbs
,
while
fiercely
glow
The
beams
direct
,
that
on
each
head
The
fury
of
contagion
shed
?
—
And
dare
presumptuous
,
guilty
man
,
Load
with
offence
his
fleeting
span
?
Deform
creation
with
the
gloom
Of
crimes
that
blot
its
cheerful
bloom
?
Darken
a
work
so
perfect
made
,
And
cast
the
universe
in
shade
?
—
Alas
!
to
AFRIC'S
fetter'd
race
Creation
wears
no
form
of
grace
!
To
them
earth's
pleasant
vales
are
found
A
blasted
waste
,
a
sterile
bound
;
Where
the
poor
wand'rer
must
sustain
The
load
of
unremitted
pain
;
A
region
in
whose
ample
scope
His
eye
discerns
no
gleam
of
hope
;
Where
thought
no
kind
asylum
knows
On
which
its
anguish
may
repose
;
But
death
,
that
to
the
ravag'd
breast
Comes
not
in
shapes
of
terror
drest
;
Points
to
green
hills
where
freedom
roves
,
And
minds
renew
their
former
loves
;
Or
,
hov'ring
in
the
troubled
air
,
Hangs
the
fierce
spectre
of
Despair
;
Whose
soul
abhors
the
gift
of
life
,
Who
stedfast
grasps
the
reeking
knife
,
Bids
the
charg'd
heart
in
torrents
bleed
,
And
smiles
in
frenzy
at
the
deed
!
Ye
noble
minds
!
who
o'er
a
sky
Where
clouds
are
roll'd
,
and
tempests
fly
,
Have
bid
the
lambent
lustre
play
Of
one
pure
,
lovely
,
azure
ray
;
O
,
far
diffuse
its
op'ning
bloom
,
And
the
wide
Hemisphere
illume
!
Ye
,
who
one
bitter
drop
have
drain'd
From
slav'ry's
cup
,
with
horror
stain'd
,
O
,
let
no
fatal
dregs
be
found
,
But
dash
her
chalice
on
the
ground
,
While
still
she
links
her
impious
chain
,
And
calculates
the
price
of
pain
;
Weighs
agony
in
sordid
scales
,
And
marks
if
death
or
life
prevails
;
Decides
how
near
the
mangling
scourge
May
to
the
grave
its
victim
urge
,
—
Yet
for
awhile
,
with
prudent
care
,
The
half-worn
wretch
,
if
useful
,
spare
;
And
speculates
,
with
skill
refin'd
,
How
deep
a
wound
will
stab
the
mind
;
How
far
the
spirit
can
endure
Calamity
,
that
hopes
no
cure
!
—
Ye
!
who
can
selfish
cares
forego
,
To
pity
those
which
others
know
,
—
As
light
that
from
its
centre
strays
To
glad
all
nature
with
its
rays
,
—
O
,
ease
the
pangs
ye
stoop
to
share
,
And
rescue
millions
from
despair
!
—
For
you
,
while
morn
in
graces
gay
Wakes
the
fresh
bloom
of
op'ning
day
,
Gilds
with
her
purple
light
your
dome
,
Renewing
all
the
joys
of
home
,
—
Of
that
dear
shed
which
first
ye
knew
,
Where
first
the
sweet
affections
grew
;
Whose
charm
alike
the
heart
can
draw
,
If
form'd
of
marble
or
of
straw
;
Whether
the
voice
of
pleasure
calls
,
And
gladness
echoes
through
its
walls
,
Or
to
its
hallow'd
roof
we
fly
With
those
we
love
to
pour
the
sigh
;
The
load
of
mingled
pain
to
bear
,
And
soften
every
pang
we
share
!
—
Ah
,
think
how
desolate
his
state
,
How
he
the
cheerful
light
must
hate
,
Whom
,
sever'd
from
his
native
soil
,
The
morning
wakes
to
fruitless
toil
To
labours
hope
shall
never
cheer
,
Or
fond
domestic
joy
endear
!
Poor
wretch
!
on
whose
despairing
eyes
His
cherish'd
home
shall
never
rise
!
Condemn'd
,
severe
extreme
,
to
live
When
all
is
fled
that
life
can
give
:
—
And
ah
,
the
blessings
valued
most
By
human
minds
,
are
blessings
lost
!
Unlike
the
objects
of
the
eye
,
Enlarging
as
we
bring
them
nigh
;
Our
joys
at
distance
strike
the
breast
,
And
seem
diminish'd
when
possest
.
Who
from
his
far-divided
shore
The
half-expiring
captive
bore
?
Those
whom
the
traffic
of
their
race
Has
robb'd
of
every
human
grace
;
Whose
harden'd
souls
no
more
retain
Impressions
nature
stamp'd
in
vain
:
As
streams
that
once
the
landscape
gave
Reflected
on
the
trembling
wave
,
Their
substance
change
when
lock'd
in
frost
,
And
rest
in
dead
contraction
lost
;
Who
view
,
unmoved
,
the
look
that
tells
The
pang
that
in
the
bosom
dwells
;
Heed
not
the
nerves
that
terror
shakes
,
The
heart
convulsive
anguish
breaks
;
The
shriek
that
would
their
crimes
upbraid
,
But
deem
despair
a
part
of
trade
.
Such
only
for
detested
gain
The
barb'rous
commerce
would
maintain
;
The
gen'rous
sailor
,
he
who
dares
All
forms
of
danger
,
while
he
bears
The
British
flag
o'er
sultry
seas
,
And
spreads
it
on
the
Polar
breeze
;
He
to
whose
guardian
arm
we
owe
Each
blessing
that
the
happy
know
;
Whatever
charms
the
soften'd
heart
,
Each
cultur'd
grace
,
each
finer
art
,
E'en
thine
,
most
lovely
of
the
train
!
Sweet
Poetry
,
thy
heav'n-taught
strain
,
His
breast
,
where
nobler
passions
burn
,
In
honest
poverty
,
would
spurn
The
wealth
oppression
can
bestow
,
And
scorn
to
wound
a
fetter'd
foe
!
When
borne
at
length
to
Western
lands
,
Chain'd
on
the
beach
the
captive
stands
,
Where
Man
,
dire
merchandize
!
is
sold
,
And
barter'd
life
is
paid
for
gold
!
In
mute
affliction
,
see
him
try
To
read
his
new
possessor's
eye
;
If
one
blest
glance
of
mercy
there
,
One
half-form'd
tear
may
check
despair
!
Ah
,
if
that
eye
with
sorrow
sees
His
languid
look
,
his
quiv'ring
knees
,
Those
limbs
which
scarce
their
load
sustain
,
That
form
consum'd
in
wasting
pain
,
Such
sorrow
fills
his
ruthless
eye
Who
sees
the
lamb
he
doom'd
to
die
;
In
pining
sickness
yield
his
life
,
And
thus
elude
the
sharpen'd
knife
.
Or
if
where
savage
habit
steels
The
vulgar
mind
,
one
bosom
feels
The
sacred
claim
of
helpless
woe
—
If
pity
in
that
soil
can
grow
!
Yet
why
on
one
poor
chance
must
rest
The
int'rest
of
a
kindred
breast
?
Why
yield
to
passion's
wayward
laws
Humanity's
devoted
cause
?
—
Ah
ye
,
who
one
fix'd
purpose
own
,
Whose
untir'd
aim
is
self
alone
;
Who
think
in
gold
the
essence
lies
From
which
extracted
bliss
shall
rise
;
Does
fleeting
life
proportion
bear
To
all
the
wealth
ye
heap
with
care
?
When
soon
your
days
in
rapid
flight
Shall
sink
in
death's
terrific
night
,
Then
seize
the
moments
in
your
power
,
To
Mercy
consecrate
the
hour
!
Risk
something
in
her
cause
at
last
,
And
thus
atone
for
all
the
past
.
Does
avarice
,
your
god
,
delight
With
agony
to
feast
his
sight
?
Does
he
require
that
victims
slain
,
And
human
blood
his
altars
stain
?
—
Ah
,
not
alone
of
power
possest
To
check
each
virtue
of
the
breast
:
As
when
the
numbing
frosts
arise
The
charm
of
vegetation
dies
;
His
sway
the
harden'd
bosom
leads
To
cruelty's
remorseless
deeds
;
Like
the
blue
lightning
,
when
it
springs
With
fury
on
its
livid
wings
,
Darts
to
its
goal
with
baleful
force
,
Nor
heeds
that
ruin
marks
its
course
!
O
,
Eloquence
!
prevailing
art
!
Whose
force
can
chain
the
list'ning
heart
;
The
throb
of
sympathy
inspire
,
And
kindle
every
great
desire
;
With
magic
energy
control
,
And
reign
the
sov'reign
of
the
soul
!
That
dreams
,
while
all
its
passions
swell
,
It
shares
the
power
it
feels
so
well
:
As
visual
objects
seem
possest
Of
those
clear
hues
by
light
imprest
.
O
,
skill'd
in
every
grace
to
charm
,
To
soften
,
to
appal
,
to
warm
,
—
Fill
with
thy
noblest
rage
the
breast
,
Bid
on
those
lips
thy
spirit
rest
,
That
shall
,
in
Britain's
Senate
,
trace
The
wrongs
of
AFRIC'S
captive
race
!
—
But
Fancy
o'er
the
tale
of
woe
In
vain
one
heighten'd
tint
would
throw
;
For
ah
,
the
truth
is
all
we
guess
Of
anguish
in
its
last
excess
!
Fancy
may
dress
in
deeper
shade
The
storm
that
hangs
along
the
glade
;
Spreads
o'er
the
ruffled
stream
its
wing
,
And
chills
awhile
the
flowers
of
spring
;
But
where
the
wint'ry
tempests
sweep
In
madness
o'er
the
darken'd
deep
,
—
Where
the
wild
surge
,
the
raging
wave
,
Point
to
the
hopeless
wretch
a
grave
;
And
death
surrounds
the
threat'ning
shore
—
Can
fancy
add
one
horror
more
?
—
Lov'd
BRITAIN
!
whose
protecting
hand
,
Stretch'd
o'er
the
globe
,
on
AFRIC'S
strand
The
honour'd
base
of
freedom
lays
,
Soon
,
soon
the
finish'd
fabric
raise
!
And
when
surrounding
realms
would
frame
,
Touch'd
with
a
spark
of
gen'rous
flame
,
Some
pure
,
ennobling
,
great
design
,
Some
lofty
act
,
almost
divine
,
Which
earth
may
hail
with
rapture
high
,
And
heav'n
may
view
with
fav'ring
eye
,
—
Teach
them
to
make
all
nature
free
,
And
shine
by
emulating
thee
!