THE AFRICAN PRINCE , NOW IN ENGLAND , TO ZARA AT HIS FATHER'S COURT , WRITTEN IN THE YEAR MDCCXLIX . BY DR. DODD . PRINCES , my fair , unfortunately great , Born to the pompous vassalage of state , Whene'er the public calls , are doom'd to sly Domestic bliss , and break the private tie . Fame pays with empty breath the toils they bear , And love's soft joys are chang'd for glorious care ; Yet conscious virtue , in the silent hour , Rewards the hero with a noble dower . For this alone I dar'd the roaring sea , Yet more , for this I dar'd to part with thee . But while my bosom feels the nobler flame , Still unreprov'd , it owns thy gentler claim . Tho' virtue's awful form my soul approves , 'Tis thine , thine only , Zara , that it loves . A private lot had made the claim but one , The prince alone must love , for virtue , shun . Ah ! why distinguish'd from the happier crowd , To me the bliss of millions disallow'd ? Why was I singled for imperial sway , Since love and duty point a different way ? Fix'd the dread voyage , and the day decreed , When , duty's victim , love was doom'd to bleed , Too well my memory can these scenes renew , We met to sigh , to weep our last adieu . That conscious palm , beneath whose towering shade So oft our vows of mutual love were made ; Where hope so oft anticipated joy , And plann'd of future years the best employ ; That palm was witness to the tears we shed , When that fond hope , and all those joys were fled . Thy trembling lips , with trembling lips , I prest , And held thee panting to my panting breast . Our sorrow , grown too mighty to sustain , Now snatch'd us , fainting , from the sense of pain . Together sinking in the trance divine , I caught thy fleeting soul , and gave thee mine ! O ! blest oblivion of tormenting care ! O ! why recall'd to life and to despair ? The dreadful summons came , to part — and why ? Why not the kinder summons but to die ? To die together were to part no more , To land in safety on some peaceful shore , Where love's the business of immortal life , And happy spirits only guess at strife . " If in some distant land my prince should find " Some nymph more fair , you cried , as Zara kind " — Mysterious doubt ! which could at once impart Relief to mine , and anguish to thy heart . Still let me triumph in the fear exprest , The voice of love that whisper'd in thy breast ; Nor call me cruel , for my truth shall prove 'Twas but the vain anxiety of love . Torn from thy fond embrace , the strand I gain , Where mourning friends inflict superfluous pain ; My father there his struggling sighs supprest , And in dumb anguish clasp'd me to his breast , Then sought , conceal'd the conflict of his mind , To give the sortitude he could not find ; Each life-taught precept kindly he renew'd , " Thy country's good , said he , be still pursued ! " If , when the gracious gods my son restore , " These eyes shall sleep in death , to wake no more ; " If then these limbs , that now in age decay , " Shall mouldering mix with earth's parental clay ; " Round my green tomb perform the sacred rite , " Assume my throne , and let thy yoke be light ; " From lands of freedom glorious precepts bring , " And reign at once a father and a king . " How vainly proud , the arrogantly great Presume to boast a monarch's godlike state ! Subject alike , the peasant and the king , To life's dark ills , and care's corroding sting . From guilt and fraud , that strikes in silence sure , No shield can guard us , and no arms secure . By these , my fair , subdued , thy prince was lost , A naked captive on a barbarous coast . Nurtur'd in ease , a thousand servants round , My wants prevented , and my wishes crown'd , No painful labours stretch'd the tedious day , On downy feet my moments danc'd away . Where-e'er I look'd , officious courtiers bow'd , Where-e'er I pass'd , a shouting people crowd ; No fears intruded on the joys I knew , Each man my friend , my lovely mistress you . What dreadful change ! abandon'd and alone , The shouted prince is now a slave unknown ; To watch his eye , no bending courtiers wait , No hailing crowds proclaim his regal state ; A slave condemn'd , with unrewarded toil , To turn , from morn to eve , a burning soil . Fainting beneath the sun's meridian heat , Rouz'd by the scourge , the taunting jest I meet : " Thanks to thy friends , they cry , whose care recalls " A prince to life , in whom a nation falls ! " Unwholesome scraps , my strength but half sustain'd , From corners glean'd , and ev'n by dogs disdain'd ; At night I mingled with a wretched crew , Who by long use with woe familiar grew ; Of manners brutish , merciless , and rude , They mock'd my sufferings , and my pangs renew'd ; In groans , not sleep , I pass'd the weary night , And rose to labour with the morning light . Yet , thus of dignity and ease beguil'd , Thus scorn'd and scourg'd , insulted and revil'd , If Heaven with thee my faithful arms had blest , And fill'd with love my intervals of rest , Short tho' they were , my soul had never known One secret wish to glitter on a throne ; The toilsome day had heard no sigh of mine , Nor stripes , nor scorn , had urg'd me to repine . A monarch , still beyond a monarch blest , Thy love my diadem , my throne thy breast ; My courtiers , watchful of my looks , thy eyes , Should shine , persuade , and flatter , and advise ; Thy voice my music , and thy arms should be — Ah ! not the prison of a slave in me ! Could I with infamy content remain , And wish thy lovely form to share my chain ? Could this bring ease ? forgive th' unworthy thought , And let the love that sinn'd atone the fault . Could I , a slave , and hopeless to be free , Crawl , tamely recent from the scourge , to thee ? Thy blooming beauties could these arms embrace ? My gullty joys enslave an infant race ? No : rather blast me lightnings , whirlwind tear , And drive these limbs in atoms thro' the air ; Rather than this , O ! curse me still with life , And let my Zara smile a rival's wife : Be mine alone th' accumulated woe , Nor let me propagate my curse below . But , from this dreadful scene , with joy I turn ; To trust in Heaven , of me let Zara learn . The wretch , the sordid hypocrite , who sold His charge , an unsuspecting prince , for gold , That Justice mark'd , whose eyes can never sleep , And death , commission'd , smote him on the deep . The generous crew their port in safety gain , And tell my mournful tale , nor tell in vain ; The king , with horror of th' atrocious deed , In haste commanded , and the slave was freed . No more Britannia's cheek , the blush of shame , Burns for my wrongs , her king restores her fame : Propitious gales , to Freedom's happy shore Waft me triumphant , and the prince restore ; Whate'er is great and gay around me shine , And all the splendor of a court is mine . Here knowledge too , by piety refin'd , Sheds a blest radiance o'er my brightening mind ; From earth I travel upward to the sky , I learn to live , to reign , yet more , to die . O ! I have tales to tell , of love divine — Such blissful tidings ! they shall soon be thine . I long to tell thee , what , amaz'd , I see , What habits , buildings , trades , and polity ! How art and nature vie to entertain In public shows , and mix delight with pain . O ! Zara He alludes to the Play of Oroonoko , at which he was present , and so affected as to be unable to continue , during its performance , in the house . , here , a story like my own , With mimic skill , in borrow'd names , was shown ; An Indian chief , like me , by fraud betray'd , And partner in his woes an Indian maid . I can't recal the scenes , 'tis pain too great , And , if recall'd , should shudder to relate . To write the wonders here , I strive in vain ; Each word would ask a thousand to explain . The time shall come , O ! speed the lingering hour ! When Zara's charms shall lend description power ; When plac'd beside thee in the cool alcove , Or thro' the green Savannahs as we rove , The frequent kiss shall interrupt the tale , And looks shall speak my sense , tho' language fail . Then shall the prodigies , that round me rise , Fill thy dear bosom with a sweet surprize ; Then all my knowledge to thy faithful heart , With danger gain'd , securely I'll impart . Methinks I see thy changing looks express Th' alternate sense of pleasure and distress ; As all the windings of my fate I trace , And wing thy fancy swift from place to place . Yet where , alas ! has flattering thoughts convey'd The ravish'd lover with his darling maid ? Between us , still unmeasur'd oceans roll , Which hostile barks infest , and storms controul . Be calm my bosom , since th' unmeasur'd main , And hostile barks , and storms , are God's domain : He rules resistless , and his power shall guide My life in safety o'er the roaring tide ; Shall bless the love that's built on virtue's base , And spare me to evangelize my race . Farewell ! thy prince still lives , and still is free : Farewell ! hope all things , and remember me .