One sun rolls o'er us, common skies surround;
One globe supports us, and one grave must bound.
Why then am I devoid of all to live
That manly comforts to a man can give?
To live--untaught religion's soothing balm,
Or life's choice arts; to live--unknown the calm,
Of soft domestic ease; those sweets of life,
The duteous offspring, and th' endearing wife?
To live--to property and rights unknown,
Not e'en the common benefits my own!
No arm to guard me from Oppression's rod,
My will subservient to a tyrant's nod!
No gentle hand, when life is in decay,
To soothe my pains, and charm my cares away;
But helpless left to quit the horrid stage,
Harassed in youth, and desolate in age!
But I was born in Afric's tawny strand,
And you in fair Britannia's fairer land;
Comes freedom, then, from colour?--Blush with shame!
And let strong Nature's crimson mark your blame.
I speak to Britons.--Britons--then behold
A man by, Britons _snared_, and _seized_, and _sold!_
And yet no British statute damns the deed,
Nor do the more than murderous villains bleed.
O sons of Freedom! equalize your laws,
Be all consistent, plead the negro's cause;
That all the nations in your code may see
The British negro, like the Briton, free.
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