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If foreigners likewise would give up the trade,
Much more in behalf of your wish might be said;
But, while they get riches by purchasing blacks,
Pray tell me why we may not also go snacks?

Your scruples and arguments bring to my mind
A story so pat, you may think it is coin'd,
On purpose to answer you, out of my mint;
But, I can assure you, I saw.it in print.

A youngster at school, more sedate than the rest,
Had once his integrity put to the test;
His comrades had plotted an orchard to rob,
And ask'd him to go and assist in the job.

He was shock'd, Sir, like you, and answer'd

" Oh no! What! rob our good neighbour! I pray you, don't

go ; Besides, the man's poor, his orchard's his bread, Then think of his children, for they must be fed.”

“ You speak very fine, and you look very grave,
But apples we want, and apples we'll have ;
If you will go with us, you shall have a share,
If not you shall have neither apple nor pear.

They spoke, and Tom ponder'd "I see they will go';
Poor man! what a pity to injure him so !
Poor man! I would save him his fruit if I could,
But staying behind will do him no good.

“ If the matter depended alone upon me,
His apples might hang till they dropt from the 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 pity'd the man.

THE MORNING DREAM.

'TWAS in the glad season of spring,

Asleep at the dawn of the day, I dream'd what I cannot but sing,

So pleasant it seem'd as I lay.

I dream'd that on ocean afloat,

While the billows high-lifted the boat,

And the fresh-blowing breeze never fail'd.

In the steerage a woman I saw,

Such at least was the form that she wore, Whose beauty impress'd me with awe,

She sat, and a shield at her side

Shed light like a sun on the waves, And smiling divinely, she cry'd

Then raising her voice to a strain

The sweetest that ear ever heard, She sung of the slave's broken chain

Wherever her glory appear'd.

Some clouds, which had over us hung,

Fled, chas'd by her melody clear, And methought while she Liberty sung,

'Twas Liberty only to hear. Thus swiftly dividing the flood · To a slave-cultur'd island we came, Where a Demon, her enemy, stood

Oppression his terrible name.

In his hand, as the sign of his sway,

A scourge hung with lashes he bore, And stood looking out for his prey

From Africa's sorrowful shore.

But soon as approaching the land

That goddess-like woman he view'd, The scourge he let fall from his hand,

With blood of his subjects imbru’d.

I saw him both sicken and die,

And the moment the monster expir'd, Heard shouts that ascended the sky

From thousands with rapture inspir’d.

Awaking, how could I but muse

At what such a dream should betide ? VOL. 11. . 3d u

But soon my ear caught the glad news,

Which serv'd my weak thought for a guide That Britannia, renown'd o'er the waves

For the hatred she ever has shown To the black-sceptred rulers of slaves,

Resolves to have none of her own.

THE YEARLY DISTRESS ;

OR,

!

Verses addressed to a Country Clergyman, complaining the disagreeableness of the Day annually appointed for re

ceiving the Dues at the Parsonage.

COME, ponder well, for 'tis no jest,

To laugh it would be wrong,
The troubles of a worthy priest

The burden of my song.
This priest he merry is and blithe

Three quarters of the year,
But oh ! it cuts him like a sithe

When tithing time draws near.
He then is full of fright and- fears,

As one at point to die,
And long before the day appears

He heaves up many a sigh.

For then the farmers come jog, jog,

Along the miry road,
Each heart as heavy as a log,

To make their payments good.
In sooth, the sorrow of such days

Is not to be express’d,
When he that takes and he that pays

Are both alike distress'd.

Now all, unwelcome, at his gates

The clumsy swains alight,
With rueful faces and bald pates

He trembles at the sight.
And well he may, for well he knows

Each bumpkin of the clan,
Instead of paying what he owes,

Will cheat him if he can.

So in they come-each makes his leg,

And flings his head before, And looks as if he came to beg,

And not to quit a score.

• And how does miss and madam do,

• The little boy and all ?' * All tight and well. And how do you,

Good Mr. What-d'ye-call?"

The dinner comes, and down they sit,

Were e'er such hungry folk ?

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