No Abolition of Slavery | Page 2

of nations have conspir'd;?For whom, eer many suns revolv'd,?Holland has crouch'd, and France dissolv'd; 120 And Spain, in a Don Quixote fit,?Has bullied only to submit;?Why stoop to nonsense? why cajole?Blockheads who vent their _rigmarole_?
And yet, where _influence_ must rule, 125 'Tis sometimes wise to play the fool;?Thus, like a witch, you raise a storm,?Whether the _Parliament's Reform_,?A set of _Irish Propositions_,?_Impeachment_--on your _own conditions_, 130 Or RICHMOND'S wild _fortifications_,?Enough to ruin twenty nations,?Or any thing you know can't fail,?To be a tub to Party's whale.?Then whilst they nibble, growl, and worry, 135 All keen and busy, hurry-scurry;?Britannia's ship you onward guide,?Wrapt in security and pride.
Accept fair praise; but while I live?Your _Regency_ I can't forgive; 140 My Tory soul with anger swell'd,?When I a parcel'd Crown beheld;?Prerogative put under hatches,?A Monarchy of shreds and patches;?And lo! a _Phantom_! to create, 145 A huge HERMAPHRODITE OF STATE!?A monster, more alarming still?Than FOX'S raw-head India Bill!
THURLOW, forbear thy awful frown;?I beg you may not _look_ me down 150 My honest fervour do not scout,?I too like thee can be devout,?And in a solemn invocation{10},?Of loyalty make protestation.
Courtiers, who chanc'd to guess aright, 155 And bask now in the Royal sight,?Gold sticks and silver, and white wands,?Ensigns of favour in your hands,?Glitt'ring with stars, and envied seen?Adorn'd with ribbands blue, red, green! 160 I charge you of deceit keep clear,?And poison not the Sovereign's ear:?O ne'er let Majesty suppose?The _Prince's_ friends must be HIS foes.?There is not one amongst you all 165 Whose sword is readier at his call;?An ancient Baron of the land,?I by my King shall ever stand;?But when it pleases Heav'n to shroud?The Royal image in a cloud, 170 That image in the Heir I see,?The Prince is then as King to me.?Let's have, altho' the skies should lour,?No interval of Regal pow'r{11}.
Where have I wander'd? do I dream? 175 Sure slaves of power are not my theme;?But honest slaves, the sons of toil,?Who cultivate the Planter's soil.
He who to thwart GOD'S system{12} tries,?Bids mountains sink, and vallies rise; 180 Slavery, subjection, what you will,?Has ever been, and will be still:?Trust me, that in this world of woe?Mankind must different burthens know;?Each bear his own, th' Apostle spoke; 185 And chiefly they who bear the yoke.
From wise subordination's plan?Springs the chief happiness of man;?Yet from that source to numbers flow?Varieties of pain and woe; 190 Look round this land of freedom, pray,?And all its lower ranks survey;?Bid the hard-working labourer speak,?What are his scanty gains a week??All huddled in a smoaky shed, 195 How are his wife and children fed??Are not the poor in constant fear?Of the relentless Overseer?
LONDON! Metropolis of bliss!?Ev'n there sad sights we cannot miss; 200 Beggars at every corner stand,?With doleful look and trembling hand;?Hear the shrill piteous cry of _sweep_,?See wretches riddling an ash heap;?The streets some for old iron scrape, 205 And scarce the crush of wheels escape;?Some share with dogs the half-eat bones,?From dunghills pick'd with weary groans.
Dear CUMBERLAND, whose various powers 210 Preserve thy life from languid hours,?Thou scholar, statesman, traveller, wit,?Who prose and verse alike canst hit;?Whose gay _West-Indian_ on our stage,?Alone might check this stupid rage; 215 Fastidious yet--O! condescend?To range with an advent'rous friend:?Together let us beat the rounds,?St. Giles's ample blackguard bounds:?Try what th' accurs'd _Short's Garden_ yields, 220 His bludgeon where the _Flash-man_ wields;?Where female votaries of sin,?With fetid rags and breath of gin,?Like antique statues stand in rows,?Fine fragments sure, but ne'er a nose. 225 Let us with calmness ascertain?The liberty of _Lewkner's Lane_,?And _Cockpit-Alley_--_Stewart's Rents_,?Where the fleec'd drunkard oft repents.?With BENTLEY'S{13} critical _acumen_ 230 Explore the haunts of evil's _Numen_;?And in the _hundreds_ of _Old Drury_,?Descant _de legibus Natur?_{14}.?Let's prowl the courts of _Newton-Street_,?Where infamy and murder meet; 235 Where CARPMEAL{15} must with caution tread,?MACMANUS tremble for his head,?JEALOUS look sharp with all his eyes,?And TOWNSHEND apprehend surprise;?And having view'd the horrid maze, 240 Let's justify the Planter's ways.
Lo then, in yonder fragrant isle?Where Nature ever seems to smile,?The cheerful _gang_{16}!--the negroes see?Perform the task of industry:?Ev'n at their labour hear them sing, 245 While time flies quick on downy wing;?Finish'd the bus'ness of the day,?No human beings are more gay:?Of food, clothes, cleanly lodging sure,?Each has his property secure; 250 Their wives and children are protected,?In sickness they are not neglected;?And when old age brings a release,?Their grateful days they end in peace.
But should our Wrongheads have their will, 255 Should Parliament approve their bill,?Pernicious as th' effect would be,?T' abolish negro slavery,?Such partial freedom would be vain,?Since Love's strong empire must remain. 260
VENUS, Czarina of the skies,?Despotick by her killing eyes,?Millions of slaves who don't complain,?Confess her universal reign:?And _Cupid_ too well-us'd to try 265 His bow-string lash, and darts to ply,?Her little _Driver_ still we find,?A wicked rogue, although he's blind.
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