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T H E W R O N G S OF A F R I C A, A P O E M. PART THE FIRST.
SED POSTQUAM TELLUS SCELERE EST IMBUTA NEFANDO,
L O N D O N: PRINTED FOR R. FAULDER, NEW BOND-STREET MDCCLXXXVII.
P R E F A C E IT must afford pleasure to every benevolent mind to observe, that the progress of knowledge, while it improves the understanding, leads to the establishment of virtue, freedom, and happiness. A great area is opening on the earth; discoveries in science are very rapidly increasing the power, amending the condition, and enlarging the views of mankind; and the close of the eighteenth, like that of the fifteenth century, will probably be marked in future times, as a period in which a sudden accession of light burst upon the human mind. Happily those important truths which are the result of reason and reflection, are no longer confined to
ii P R E F A C E. the recesses of philosophy; they have spread widely into society, and begin to influence the councils of statesmen, and the conduct of nations.Hence it is not improbable, that the principles of political science may soon undergo an universal change; that probity and good faith may take place of fraud and chicanery in the intercourse of states; contiguity of situation prove the source of friendship instead of hostility between nations; and hatred and bloodshed be exchanged for confidence and peace. Such must be the consequences, when the laws of truth and justice, which are imposed on the transactions of individuals, shall be extended to the conduct of governments towards each other, where kingdoms are at stake, and the happiness of millions involved in the issue. But though many agreeable effects will most probably flow from this important change, there are other consequences that may ensue, which are greatly
P R E F A C E. iii to be dreaded. The spirit of trade may degrade the national character, and endanger our sacrificing the principles of justice and the feelings of humanity to the acquirement of wealth. It becomes us therefore to guard against the introduction of those base and sordid maxims which represent every thing as fair that is lucrative, and separate infamy from villany, provided it be successful.Britain has been highly favoured of heaven in all the gifts of nature and the acquisitions of art; and the temple of Liberty, first reared by the labour, and cemented by the blood, of our ancestors, has now its foundations eternally fixed on the basis of science and philosophy. But the principles on which the liberties of Britain are established, are of universal application, and may one day extend from the centre of this island to the extremities of the earth. It is time for those who direct the councils of the nation to turn their eyes on the trade to Africa—
iv P R E F A C E. This traffic in the human species, which is so direct and daring an infringement of every principle of liberty and justice, has attracted the public notice—The more it is examined, the more horrid it will appear; and the voice of reason, aided by the natural feelings of the human heart, must sooner or later atchieve its overthrow. But it becomes a wise legislature to interfere without delay; the subject is of deep importance, and calls loudly for the immediate exertions of patriotism and virtue. It would be no difficult matter to shew, that the trade which the Europeans on for slaves to Guinea, is the foundation of almost all the miseries which the negroes endure in their own country, as well as in the sugar islands. Those dreadful wars which spread from the shores of the Atlantic to the eastern extremity of Africa, are chiefly undertaken to procure slaves as an exchange for the wares of Europe. It is this trade, which setting justice and humanity at defiance, crowds the unhappy Africans in the foul and pestilential holds of ships,
P R E F A C E. v where twenty-five thousand perish annually of disease and broken hearts. It is this traffic which places the survivors in the hands of masters whose natural feelings are destroyed by early and continual intercourse with the worst of slavery, where their spirits are broken and their bodies wasted by insupportable toils. Lastly, it is this trade which deprives them of those best privileges of our nature, conjugal affection and parental love, the constant supply which it affords compensating the loss of those victims of avarice and cruelty who have died without issue to inherit their misery and disgrace.—Hence it is, that the waste of life among a people naturally prolific in the extreme, amounts to an eighth part annually; and upwards of an hundred thousand Africans are yearly transported across the Atlantic, to keep up the number of those unhappy men who are doomed to toil, to slavery, and to death.This mournful truth, while it confutes a thousand arguments drawn by the wretched apologists
vi P R E F A C E. of slavery, from the unhappy condition of the negroes in the West-India islands, suggests other reflections, at which humanity shudders.—It is the interest of the merchants of England, that the condition of the negroes in the colonies should not be meliorated, for otherwise they might multiply in such a manner as to destroy the demand; while on the other hand the planters who can now buy a full-grown African cheaper than they can rear a child from birth to the age of labour, are thus, in the treatment of their slaves, freed from those restraints which interest imposes on the most merciless. Thus it is, that these two species of Christians find their account in the sufferings of the injured Africans; and who after this can wonder that their general treatment is cruel and severe?That representations such as these should have no influence in a country where men have heads to reason and hearts to feel, is impossible; and before long it is hoped they will have a powerful effect in the senate of
P R E F A C E. vii the nation. A partial attachment to the errors of their country, cannot be alleged against the politicians of the present day; nor is it easy to see how the traffic in the human species, can be overlooked by those among them who have any pretensions to patriotism or humanity—Nor how those adherents of liberty, who so lately fought the battles of America, when Britain attempted to retain her authority over the colonies she had formed, can view unmoved the real enormities she is daily perpetrating in another quarter of the globe.Though the author of the following poem has spoken of the slave trade with the abhorrence which it deserves, he would not be thought to involve all who are concerned in it in the charge of deliberate wickedness. The combined influence of custom, of prejudice, and of interest, has, he knows, in all ages afforded melancholy instances, not only of the corruption of the heart, but of the perversion of the understanding; and to this last circumstance he is willing to impute it, that there are English-
vi P R E F A C E. men deeply engaged in the traffic in the human species (incredible as it may appear) who are, in other respects, men of honour and integrity; and even, as he has been told, of humanity—Such instances are deeply to be deplored.Feeling for the honour of his country, and for the sufferings of the friendless and injured negroes, the author has attempted to attract public notice to the slave trade, by committing his thoughts to the press in the form of a poem. That which he now offers is the first part of his plan; if this meets attention, it will be continued. It may be thought that he has been warm, and he will not deny it—This however he may say, that he has not used the licence of a poet to deal in fiction—It is with heartfelt sorrow he declares, that on this subject the truth defies the exaggeration of passion, or the embellishments of imagination.
T H E W R O N G S OF A F R I C A.
PART THE FIRST.
OFFSPRING of love divine, Humanity!
[ 2 ] Of mercantile confusion, where thy voiceIs heard not; from the meretricious glare Of crowded theatres, where in thy place Sits Sensibility, with wat'ry eye, Dropping o'er fancied woes her useless tear; Come thou, and weep with me substantial ills; And execrate the wrongs, that Afric's sons, Torn from their natal shore, and doom'd to bear The yoke of servitude in western climes, Sustain. Nor vainly let our sorrows flow, Nor let the strong emotion rise in vain, But may the kind contagion widely spread, Till in its flame the unrelenting heart Of Avarice, melt in softest sympathy;— And one bright blaze of universal love, In grateful incense, rises up to heaven.
Form'd with the same capacity of pain
[ 3 ] From the slight puncture of an insect's sting,Faints if not screen'd from sultry suns, and pines Beneath the hardship of an hour's delay Of needful nutriment; when liberty Is priz'd so dearly, that the slightest breath That ruffles but her mantle, can awake To arms, unwarlike nations, and can rouse Confederate states to vindicate her claims; How shall the sufferer man, his fellow doom To ills he mourns, or spurns at? tear with stripes His quivering flesh; with hunger and with thirst Waste his emaciate frame? in ceaseless toils Exhaust his vital powers; and bind his limbs In galling chains? Shall he whose fragile form Demands continual blessings, to support Its complicated texture; air, and food, Raiment, alternate rest, and kindly skies, And healthful seasons, dare with impious voice To ask those mercies, whilst his selfish aim Arrests the general freedom of their course?
[ 4 ] And gratified beyond his utmost wish,Debars another from the bounteous store?
From her exhaustless springs the fruitful earth
[ 5 ] Again we tear the morsel from his hands;An useless booty! whilst the sufferer droops Beneath reiterated wrongs, and dies.
But thou, the master of the sable crew!
[ 6 ] Diffuses gladness, or represses pain,Thro' the minutest particle of life; Feels not thine harden'd breast a horrid bliss In the wild shriek of anguish? in the groan Of speechless misery? Hence with tyrant voice Thou bidst the trembling victim to thy wrath Devoted, writhe beneath the torturing whip, Or for some trivial fault, (to which compar'd The daily crime, which thou without remorse Committ'st against him, is as oceans depth, To the shoal current of the scantiest rill) To mutilation doom'st him, and to death. —Dear to the heart is freedom's generous flame, And dear th'exulting glow, that warms the soul, When struggling virtue from the tyrant's grasp Indignant rushes, and asserts her rights; But for this nameless transport, thou hast found A gloomy substitute, and from the depths Of loathsome dungeons, manacles, and chains, Canst draw strange pleasure, and preposterous joy.
[ 7 ] And thou th'inferior minister of ill!Inferior in degree, but in thy scorn Of every milder virtue, in the love Of rapine, and the quenchless thirst of gold His more than equal! O'er th'Atlantic deep, That rolls in vain to screen its eastern shores From thy fierce purpose, on thou plough'st thy way; And firm, and fearless, as thy voyage were meant On messages of mercy, seest unmov'd The lightnings glare, and hear'st the thunders roll, Regardless of their threats; when o'er the main, Rides in dread state the equinoctial blast, And swells th'insulted ocean, when thy bark (The thin partition 'twixt thy fate and thee) Labours thro' all her frame, and loudly threats Thine instantaneous doom; thou still preserv'st Thine execrable aim; nor storms, nor fire, Nor fell diseases, nor impending death, Arrest thy purpose; till the distant shores Of hapless Afric open on thy sight.
[ 8 ] From northern Gambia, to the southern climesOf sad ANGOLA, lie the fated lands, Whose genius mourns thy coming: wak'd by him, In vain the elemental fury rag'd, For thou hast triumph'd: joyful on the strand His sable sons receive thy wearied crew; And bid them share their vegetable store, Pow'rful to purify the tainted blood, And grateful to the palate, long inur'd To nutriment half putrid: in return, Thou to their dazzled sight disclosest wide Thy magazine of wonders, cull'd with care, From all the splendid trifles, that adorn Thine own luxrious region; mimic gems That emulate the true; fictitious gold To various uses fashion'd, pointing out Wants which before they knew not; mirrors bright, Reflecting to their quick and curious eye Their sable features; shells, and beads, and rings, And all fantastic folly's gingling bells,
[ 9 ] That catch'd th'unpractis'd ear, and thence conveyTheir unsuspected poison to the mind.
Yet not delightless pass'd their cloudless days.
[ 10 ] Nor was amusement wanting; oft at morn,Lord of his time, the healthful native rose, And seiz'd his faithful bow, and took his way Midst tangled woods, or over distant plains, To pierce the murd'rous Pard; when glowing noon Pour'd its meridian fervors, in cool shades He slept away th'uncounted hours, till eve Recall'd him home; then midst the village train He join'd the mazy dance; then all his pow'rs Were wak'd to action; vigorous and alert, He bounded o'er the plain; or in due time Plied his unwearied feet, and beat his hands; Whilst bursts of laughter, and loud shouts of joy, Spoke the keen pleasures of th'admiring throng.
But when the active labours of the chace
[ 11 ] Fantastic decorations; simply carv'd,Yet not inelegant: beneath his hands, Oft too a cloth of firmer texture grew, That steep'd in azure, mocks the brittle threads, And fleeting tincture, of our boasted arts. The task, perform'd beneath no master's eye, Of trivial worth esteem'd, successive months Unfinish'd saw, whilst objects interven'd, Deem'd more important; that by grateful change, Cheer'd the slow progress of his guiltless life.
Nor yet unknown to more refin'd delights,
[ 12 ] For not to polish'd life alone confin'dAre these primæval blessings; rather there Destroyed, or injured; mercenary ties There bind ill suited tempers; avarice there, And pride, and low'ring superstition, cross The tender union; but where nature reigns, And universal freedom, love exults As in his native clime; there aims secure His brightest arrow, steep'd in keen delights, To cultur'd minds, and colder skies unknown.
Dark, and portentous, as the sable cloud,
[ 13 ] Were all the bonds of social life, and rage,And deadly hatred, and uncheck'd revenge, In every bosom burn'd. The dance, the song Were now no more, for treachery's secret snare Impended o'er their revels, and distrust Had alienated man from man: no more, At early dawn, o'er hills and plains unknown, The hunter took his solitary range, Lest, fiercer than the tyger or the pard, He there shou'd meet his fellows, and become Himself the prey. Then mutual wars arose, And neighbouring states, that never knew before A motive of contention, took the field; Not with the glorious hope of conquest fir'd, But with detested avarice, to purloin Their foes, and sell to Europe's shameless race, Their unoffending neighbours; soon themselves To share their lot, and mourn the self-same chains. But say, whence first th'unnatural trade arose,
[ 14 ] And what the strong inducement, that could temptSuch dread perversion? Cou'd not Afric's wealth, Her ivory, and her granulated gold, To her superfluous, well repay the stores, (Superfluous too) from distant Europe sent; But liberty and life must be the price, And man become the merchandize and spoil? —O, when with slow and hesitating voice, The wily European first propos'd His hateful barter, that some patriot hand, Urg'd with prophetic rage, has stopt the source Of future ill, and deep within his breast The deadly weapon buried!—whilst aloof Stood his pale brethren, paler then with fear; And shuddering at the awful deed, had learnt To venerate th'eternal rights of man.
Artful, and fair, and eloquent of speech,
[ 15 ] And fair, and artful, were the cultur'd train,That wound the snare round Afric's thoughtless sons, And dragg'd them to perdition. In their eyes Bright shine the splendid stores; around them throng The wondering natives; and with strange delight, Gaze on thier novel beauties; as they gaze, New wishes rise, which, gratified in part, And part restrain'd, and heighten'd by delay, Wake the dread lust of having. What their climes Of rich, or rare, for ornament, or use, Afford, they glad resign; but still unbought Remains the shining treasure, far beyond All possible equivalent; for vain Were all the proffer'd gifts, that highest stood In the poor native's estimate; his bow, His reedy arrows, or the dappled skin Won from the leopard in the dangerous chace. Mean time impetuous rose the fierce desire, And, like a sudden deluge, swept along The sense of right uncultur'd nature gave,
[ 16 ] Each softer feeling, every social tie,And mark'd th'arrival of the dreadful hour. —The European caught the favouring time; And with bland speech, and soften'd smile, propos'd A prize, that might the splendid booty win, —A brother's sacrifice.——
Safe on the sheltering coast of wide Benin,
[ 17 ] And in the element of fierce desire,Their brittle hold resign'd. Corymbo doom'd His brother to captivity, and lur'd To share the feign'd excursion, and partake The evening revel, with the morning light Again to seek the shore. They reach the ship— A shout of joy salutes them; on the deck Corymbo leaps, whilst trembling close behind Arebo follows, scarce as yet resolv'd To share the banquet; on the distant shore He turned his eyes, and felt his spirits sink In strange dejection; sudden fear impell'd His steps, and from the vessel's tow'ring height, He sought to plunge for safety in the flood: —But ah! too late—superior strength restrains His vain attempt; and insults, stripes, and chains, Fill the sad series of his future days.
Mean time Corymbo, struck with conscious guilt
[ 18 ] The promis'd bounty. This be thy reward,Cried, with malicious smile, the watchful fiend That first devis'd the treachery, and display'd His implements of torture, whips, and bonds. —Deep in the centre of the floating pile, Were thrown the hapless brothers, there to pass The changing moons, till in the western world New woes awaited them, whilst mutual hate Sharpen'd each pang, and doubled every ill.
Thus blasted were the joys of private life;
[ 19 ] Nor only then, beneath the gloom of night,In the lone path, the sable ruffian lurk'd Watchful to seize and sell for useless toys, His weaker fellow; but deluded states Avow'd the public measure; to the field March'd forth contending armies, unprovok'd By previous wrong, to wage unnatural war: Whilst he, the white deceiver, who had sown The seeds of discord, saw with horrid joy The harvest ripen to his utmost wish; And reap'd the spoils of treachery, guilt, and blood.
Deep in the shady covert of a wood,
[ 20 ] Sail'd the dim cloud of night, and thro' the treesSigh'd the soft gale, and hush'd to deep repose The guiltless tenants; when a sudden fire Involv'd their habitations; thro' the flames They rush'd for safety; but a numerous throng Of native ruffians, from a distant shore, Attack'd the helpless crew, and bore away Their trembling victims; loudly rose the voice Of anguish, whilst the mother for her child Struggled with frantic violence, And dar'd Th'extreme of danger; whilst the lover clasp'd The mistress of his choice, and rais'd his breast To meet the threatn'd blow; whilst youth, alarm'd, Trusted to flight for safety, and the tear Of supplicating age was pour'd in vain: —Fond tears, and vain attempts! shall mercy rest In savage bosoms, when the cultur'd mind Disclaims her influence? From their peaceful home For ever torn, and chain'd in long array, The mourning sufferers move along the plain,
[ 21 ] A spectacle of woe; and frequent turnTheir tear-dimm'd eyes towards the fav'rite spot That gave them birth, and saw their youthful sports; Whose streams had cool'd their thirst, whose forests dark Had screen'd their slumbers, and whose varied scenes Had winess'd all their joys. They turn, and mourn Their simmple threshold now with kindred blood Defil'd; their roof's of rapid flames the prey; The partners of their pleasure's now condemn'd To share their lot, or pouring out their lives Beneath untented wounds.—They turn and weep, Whilst o'er the burning sand the frequent goad Hastens their lingering steps, till on their sight Open's th'extended ocean: hovering near, Like some dread monster, watchful for its prey, The vessel glooms portentous; soon to seize Her living victims, and to whelm them deep In the dark cavern of her loathsome womb.
[ 22 ] O might we here absolve the theme, and hideBeneath th'impenetrable veil of night New scenes of horror; happy so to spare The blush, that else must tinge th'ingenuous cheek; To spare the tear of pity, nor provoke The sudden imprecation that will burst From plain integrity, when open wrong Wantons secure in guilt.—And let it burst, And let the cheek with burning blushes glow, And pity pour her tears: for is not Man The author of the wrong? And shall not they, In colour, nation, faith,—associate all— Who see, yet not resent it; hear of it, Yet stand regardless; know it, yet partake The luxuries it supplies; shall these not feel The keen emotions of remorse and shame? And learn this truth severe, that whilst they shun The glorious conflict, nor assist the cause Of suffering nature, THEY PARTAKE THE GUILT?
[ 23 ] Come then, ye generous few, whose hearts can feelFor stranger sorrows; who can hear the voice Of misery breathe across th'Atlantic main, Diminish'd not by distance!—Ye too come, Ye patrons of distress, beneath whose smile Exulting charity beholds with joy The numerous temples rising to her fame; Where age in peace reposes, where the young A safe asylum find; where sickness smiles, And hunger meets relief! Come, and with me Descend that floating dungeon's dark recess, To air scarce pervious; where in numbers pil'd, And closely wegd'd within the scanty breadth Of calculated inches, pass their hours The victims of our avarice.—Tell me, then, Did ever he, the glory of our isle, Our new ALCIDES, in whose conquering grasp The serpents of oppression droop'd and died; Who now essays his heavenly temper'd spear Against the eastern Python's deadly rage:
[ 24 ] Immortal HOWARD! when with fearless stepHe trac'd pale misery to her last recess, Midst putrid vapours and infectious damps, Th'abodes of harden'd guilt—Did ever he Behold a sight so dreadful? where the dead Press on the dying; where the parting groan Is heard without compassion, or excites The living wretches envy; where debarr'd From every blessing, and from every hope, Death comes not at their bidding, but selects With wayward choice his favorites; harshly kind, Dissolves the bond, and mocks the tyrant's rage?
A truce with declamation:—thus methinks
[ 25 ] The anxious days, the busy, restless nights,Devoted to the succour of the slaves When visited by sickness? Is it yours To tell what arts are us'd, the healing arts Of cultivated Europe; to appease The recent pang, or stop the spreading rage Of fierce contagion? But suppose we grant What you assume unjustly, that our ears Are shut to misery's voice; our harden'd hearts Lost to the social sympathies of man; Ye will not sure deny, that still we feel The potent charm of interest; and with her Ev'n shou'd humanity refuse to join, She here becomes her substitute, and leads To equal blessings: 'tis not then enough You prove us void of feeling; you must shew Our folly far exceeds our guilt, or see Your blunted darts, from truth's bright shield, recoil. And who shall rob you of your just applause!
[ 26 ] Ye watchful guardians of the subject crew,That curse the lives ye cherish? 'Tis, we own, No common case, to shut the gates of death On those who wish to pass them; to retain Within its suffering bound, th'indignant soul That pants for freedom, as the hunted hart That seeks the coolness of the chrystal spring: And when the tyrant of the harmless flock, That whilst he feeds them, destines them to death, Is call'd humane, ye then may justly boast The glorious appellation: 'Tis enough Mean time for you, if life and health remain Amongst your captives, till they reach the shores Of those polluted Islands, that too soon Shall realize the evils which they dread. —Then ends your sympathy—and whether there Long years of suffering waste by slow degrees Their vital powers, or violence deform Their mutilated limbs, or hunger gnaws, Or sickness preys upon them, unconcern'd
[ 27 ] Ye give them to their fate; as Jacob's sonsSold their more righteous brother; nor inquire What ills to suffer, or what deaths to die.
Most fitly then ye throw aside the veil,
[ 28 ] Of soft compassion, and perform the taskTo her mild cares and lenient hand assign'd? —It is not his, on misery's bleeding wounds To pour the soothing balm; to raise the head That droops in sickness; timely to supply The healing potion; and the bitter cup Sweeten with words of sympathy. To him, Of all that breathes, indifferent is the fate; And whilst one hand the cordial drop sustains, The other grasps a dagger; thus prepar'd, With life, and death, he balances the scale, And as the beam preponderates, saves, or kills.
But say, ye shameless sophists! who compress'd
[ 29 ] Draw tears of blood—No, 'twas the hated powerOf unrelenting avarice, that with her Late claim'd unnatural union; and assur'd Himself her substitute; Insatiate he, Whilst thirst of gain absorb'd each other sense, Pour'd in his cavern deep, throng after throng, His living victims; with his iron mace, Crush'd and condens'd their ranks, and o'er them clos'd Th'impenetrable barrier.—Grimly then, Like him of yore, that in his blood-stain'd cave Confin'd the wandering Greeks, he sat and smil'd, And brooded over his treasures, now esteem'd Irrevocably his.—Deluded fool! The cup, thy giddy rage has fill'd too high, Like that of Tantalus shall soon o'erflow, And leave thee wondering at the sudden void. For nature, Proteus like, when long confin'd Delights to change her form: fermenting slow, Her silent work commences; scarce perceiv'd
[ 30 ] Its hidden progress, till the leaven reachThe principle of being, to new forms And combinations tending: then uncheck'd Rages the wild contagion.—Vainly then, The tyrant opens wide his iron gate, And bids the fainting wretch once more imbibe The fragrant gales of day; or o'er him pours In copious streams th'invigorating lymph: —Ah see, his palsied lips refuse to taste The kind astringent; sudden tremors shake His limbs; his glaring eye-balls roll in death; And unreluctant, from its wearied frame, Flies the freed spirit:—Yet not seeks alone The promis'd regions of eternal spring; But mingling with the kindred souls, whose bonds Each passing hour dissevers, hovers o'er The scene, and bids its lov'd companions haste, And share the sweets of freedom: or delights To glance before the tyrant's fear-struck sight; Mock at his anguish, feast upon the fears
[ 31 ] That agitate his bosom, whilst he seesThe spirit of disease his folly rais'd, Roam unconfin'd; and in one common fate, Involve at once th'oppressor, and the slave.
Nations of Europe! o'er whose favour'd lands
[ 32 ] And prizing freedom dearer than the bloodThat circles round thine heart! O Albion, say, And say, ye sister kingdoms; why remains This universal blot, that marks your brows With black ingratitude; and tells high heaven You merit not your blessings? Why remains This foul and open wound on nature's limb, Wasting its healthful powers? (and who shall tell How far it may spread th'infection?) Blush ye not To boast your equal laws, your just restraints, Your rights defin'd, your liberties secur'd, Whilst with an iron hand ye crush to earth The helpless African; and bid him drink That cup of sorrow, which yourselves have dash'd Indignant, from opression's fainting grasp? —O Britain! jealous of thy private rights, Like some fond mother, with a partial eye Thou seest thine offspring; and should fraud, or force, Attempt to tear them from thee; soon would rise Thy kindling spirit, and th'insidious foe
[ 33 ] Wou'd feel thy ready vengeance: And shalt thouIncroach upon another? Shall thine hand Be stain'd with murder? Or with paltry theft Polluted? Or abandon'd to thy shame, Canst thou receive the produce of the crimes Thy sons commit, and from thy tow'ring state Affect to know not of them? High in rank Amidst surrounding nations; high in fame; In public spirit high; and high in wealth; Forget not, Britain, higher still than thee Sits the great Judge of Nations, who can weigh The wrong and can repay. Before his throne Confess thy weakness; nor with impious voice Arraign th'immutable decree, that fix'd The bounds of wrong and right; that gave to all Their equal blessings, and secures its ends By penalties severe; which often flow, But always certain, on the guilty head, Pour down the terrors of the wrath divine.
A Note on the Text
The Wrongs of Africa, A Poem. Part the First (London: R. Faulder, 1787)
This e-text is located at www.brycchancarey.com/slavery/roscoe1.htm
Authorship: The poem, commissioned by the Society for Effecting the Abolition of the African Slave Trade, was written by William Roscoe. The Preface was written by James Currie.
This is the full text of 'part the first' of the poem. The poem is in two parts, which appeared seperately. Click Here for Part Two of the poem.
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