Sublimely frowns upon the fairy toil,
Eluding, like the Sybil's fabled page,
The curious eye, and anxious search of man.
TO THE FIRST SLAVE SHIP.
First of that train which cursed the wave,
And from the rifled cabin bore,
Inheritor of wo,—the slave
To bless his palm-tree's shade no more,
Dire engine!—o'er the troubled main
Borne on in unresisted state,—
Know'st thou within thy dark domain
The secrets of thy prison'd freight?—
Hear'st thou their moans whom hope hath fled?—
Wild cries, in agonizing starts?—
Know'st thou thy humid sails are spread
With ceaseless sighs from broken hearts?—
The fetter'd chieftain's burning tear,—
The parted lover's mute despair,—
The childless mother's pang severe,—
The orphan's misery, are there.
Ah!—could'st thou from the scroll of fate
The annal read of future years,
Stripes,—tortures,—unrelenting hate,
And death-gasps drown'd in slavery's tears.
