THE NEGRO BOY. An African Prince being asked, what he had given for his watch? replied, " what I will never give again.I give a fine Boy for it. When avarice enslaves the mind, His father's hope, his mother's pride; From country, friends, and parents torn, I saw him o'er the billows borne, In isles that deck the western wave, A beast that Christians buy and sell: His wretched parents long shall mourn; Beneath a tyrant's harsh command, No pleasing thoughts his mind employ, But he who walks upon the wind, Whose voice in thunder's heard on high, Who doth the raging tempest bind,“ Or wing the light'ning thro' the sky, In his own time will soon destroy Th' oppressors of the Negro Boy. ON THE BRITISH CHANNEL. Roll, roll thy white waves, and envelop'd in foam Pour thy tides round the echoing shore; Thou guard of Old England, my country, my home! And my soul shall rejoice in the roar ! Though high-fronted valour may scowl at the foe, 'Tis good to exult in the strength of the land, But never may that day of horror be known, When these hills and these vallies shall feel The rush of the phalanx by phalanx o'erthrown, And the bound of the thundering wheel! The dread chance of battle, it's blood and it's roar, Who can wish in his senses to prove; To plant the foul fiend on Britannia's own shore All sacred to peace and to love? P Hail-glory of Albion! ye fleets and ye hosts! I breathe not the tones of dismay : In valour unquestion'd, still cover your coasts, But may Heav'n keep the slaughter away. Thou gem of the ocean, that smil'st in thy pow's, The nations have trembled-have cower'd in the dust, E'en the Alps heard the conqueror's song, When the Genius of Gaul, with unquenchable thirst, Push'd her eagles resistless along. And still they advance, and the nations must bleed, Thy girdle of Ocean, by Heaven was decreed Roll, roll thy white waves, and envelop'd in foam And my soul shall rejoice in the roar! ON THE LOSS OF THE ROYAL GEORGE. Toll for the brave! The brave! that are no more! All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore! Eight hundred of the brave, Whose courage well was tried, Had made the vessel heel, And laid her on her side. A land breeze shook the shrouds, Down went the Royal George, Toll for the brave! Brave Kempenfelt is gone ; His last sea-fight is fought; It was not in the battle; No tempest gave the shock; She sprang no fatal leak; |