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"TWAS in the glad season of spring,
I dream'd what I cannot but sing,
Far hence to the westward I sail'd,
In the steerage a woman I saw,
Such at least was the form that she wore, Whose beauty impress'd me with awe, Ne'er taught me by woman before.
She sat, and a shield at her side
Shed light, like a sun on the waves, And smiling divinely, she cried
"I go to make freemen of slaves."
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,
In his hand, as the sign of his sway,
From Africa's sorrowful shore.
But soon as approaching the land, That goddesslike 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? But soon my ear caught the glad news, Which serv'd my weak thought for a guideThat 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.
NIGHTINGALE AND GLOW-WORM.
A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long
That you with music, I with light,
That brother should not war with brother,
Till life's poor transient night is spent,
The gifts of nature and of grace.
Those Christians best deserve the name, Who studiously make peace their aim; Peace both the duty and the prize
Of him that creeps and him that flies.