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THE BLACK MAN'S LAMENT.

"Who dares an English peasant flog,
Or buy, or sell, or steal away?
Who sheds his blood? treats him like dog,
Or fetters him like beasts of prey?

"He has a cottage, he a wife;
If child he has, that child is free.
I am depriv'd of married life,
And my poor child were slave like me.

"Unlike his home, ours is a shed
Of pine-tree trunks, unsquar'd, ill-clos'd;
Blanket we have, but not a bed,
Whene'er to short, chill sleep dispos'd.

"Our clothing's ragged. All our food
Is rice, dried fish, and Indian meal.
Hard, scanty fare! Oh, would I could
Make White men Negroes' miseries feel!"