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NECESSARY TO THE HAPPINESS OF THE MARRIED
The lady thus address'd her spouse:“ What a mere dungeon is this house! By no means large enough; and was it, Yet this dull room, and that dark closet, Those hangings with their worn-out graces, Long beards, long noses, and pale faces, Are such an antiquated scene, They overwhelm me with the spleen” Sir Humphrey, shooting in the dark, Makes answer quite beside the mark: “No doubt, my dear, I bade him come, Engag'd myself to be at home, And shall expect him at the door, Precisely when the clock strikes four."
“You are so deaf," the lady cried (And rais'd her voice, and frown'd beside), • You are so deaf, my dear, What shall I do to make you hear?”
“Dismiss poor Harry!” he replies; "Some people are more nice than wise : For one slight trespass all this stir? What if he did ride whip and spur, 'Twas but a mile-your fav’rite horse Will never look one hair the worse."
“Well, I protest 'tis past all bearing”-
hear or no.”
To gratify a fretful passion,
The love that cheers life's latest stage,
THE NEGRO'S COMPLAINT.
FORC'd from home and all its pleasures,
Afric's coast I left forlorn ;
O’er the raging billows borne.
Men from England bought and sold me,
Paid my price in paltry gold; But, though slave they have enrollid me,
Minds are never to be sold. Still in thought as free as ever,
What are England's rights, I ask, Me from my delights to sever,
Me to torture, me to task ? Fleecy locks and black complexion
Cannot forfeit Nature's claim; Skins may differ, but affection
Dwells in white and black the same. Why did all-creating Nature
Make the plant, for which we toil ? Sighs must fan it, tears must water,
Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted,
Lolling at your jovial boards; Think how many backs have smarted
For the sweets your cane affords. Is there, as ye sometimes tell
us, Is there one, who reigns on high? Has he bid you buy and sell us,
Speaking from his throne the sky ? Ask him, if your knotted scourges,
Matches, blood-extorting screws,
Agents of his will to use?
Strewing yonder sea with wrecks; Wasting towns, plantations, meadows,
Are the voice, with which he speaks. He, foreseeing what vexations
Afric's sons should undergo, Fix'd their tyrants' habitations
Where his whirlwinds answer-no.
By our blood in Afric wasted,
Ere our necks receiv'd the chain;
Crossing in your barks the main ;
To the man-degrading mart;
Only by a broken heart.
Till some reason ye shall find
Than the colour of our kind.
Tarnish all your boasted pow'rs,
Ere you proudly question ours ?
PITY FOR POOR AFRICANS.
“ Video meliora proboque,
Deteriora sequor.” Lown I am shock'd at the purchase of slaves, And fear those who buy them, and sell them, are
knaves ; What I hear of their hardships, their tortures, and
groans, Is almost enough to draw pity from stones. I pity them greatly, but I must be mum, For how could we do without sugar or rum? Especially sugar, so peedful we see? What, give up our desserts, our coffee, and tea ! Besides, if we do, the French, Dutch, and Danes, Will heartily thank us, no doubt, for our pains; If we do not buy the poor creatures, they will, And tortures and groans will be multiplied still.
If foreigners likewise would give up the trade,
with us, you shall have a share,
tree ; But, since they will take them, I think I'll go too, He will lose none by me, though I get a few." His scruples thus silenc'd, Tom felt more at ease, And went with his comrades the apples to seize; He blam'd and protested, but join'd in the plan : He shar'd in the plunder, but pitied the man.