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 !