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SLAVERY.
Touch'd by the kindling energy alone,45
We think the flame which melts us is our own;
Deceiv'd, for genius we miſtake delight,
Charm'd as we read, we fancy we can write.
Tho' not to me, ſweet Bard, thy pow'rs belong,
Fair Truth, a hallow'd guide! inſpires my song.50
Here Art wou'd weave her gayeſt flow'rs in vain,
For Truth the bright invention wou'd diſdain.
For no fictitious ills theſe numbers flow,
But living anguiſh, and ſubſtantial woe;
No individual griefs my boſom melt,55
For millions feel what Oronoko felt:
Fir'd by no ſingle wrongs, the countleſs hoſt
I mourn, by rapine dragg'd from Afric's coaſt.
Periſh th' illiberal thought which wou'd debaſe
The native genius of the ſable race!60
Periſh
