ON COLONIAL SLAVERY.
111
Shall the sceptre of Britain by woman be grasped,
Nor the fetters which bind the poor negro unclasped?
Shall the voice of her people ascend to her throne,
Nor Victoria the claims of humanity own?
Nor the fetters which bind the poor negro unclasped?
Shall the voice of her people ascend to her throne,
Nor Victoria the claims of humanity own?
Forbid it, each feeling to woman most dear!
Forbid it, fair charity, pity's soft tear!
Forbid it, the shriek—O, so fearfully wild!—
As the poor negro mother is torn from her child!
Forbid it, fair charity, pity's soft tear!
Forbid it, the shriek—O, so fearfully wild!—
As the poor negro mother is torn from her child!
Forbid it, the lash, which so cruelly hangs
O'er the head of the slave, and adds shame to his pangs!
Alas! even females the scourge cannot flee,
Till the law of their country pronounces them free!
O'er the head of the slave, and adds shame to his pangs!
Alas! even females the scourge cannot flee,
Till the law of their country pronounces them free!
Yes! Victoria shall yet hear the poor negro's moan,
And the voice of her people shall echo her own,
And the bright star of liberty rise o'er the waves,
And the mandate of mercy give freedom to slaves!
And the voice of her people shall echo her own,
And the bright star of liberty rise o'er the waves,
And the mandate of mercy give freedom to slaves!
