73 



And in that space full room is found 



For flowers to fade, and thorns to wound. 



But now, (all fancy's freaks supprest, 



Each thread-bare sneer and wanton jest,) 



With hand on heart in serious tone, 



With thanks, with truth, I needs must own, 



Wide as I 've roam'd the world around, 



Roam where I would, I ever found, 



The worst of Women still possest 



More virtues than of Men the best. 



And, oh ! if shipwreck proves my lot, 



Guide me, kind Heav'n, to some lone cot 



Where woman dwells ! Her hand she'll stretch 



In pity to the stranger-wretch ; 



If virtuous want mine eye surveys, 



Nor mine the power his head to raise, 



I '11 pour the tale in woman's ear, 



She '11 aid, and, aiding, drop a tear. 



And when my life-blood sickness drains, 



And racks my nerves, and fires my brains, 



What kinder juice, what livelier power, 



Than mineral yields, or opiate flower, 



Can make me e'en in pain rejoice ? — 



A few sweet words in that sweet voice ! 



January 6. 



This was the day given to my negroes as a fes- 

 tival on my arrival. A couple of heifers were 

 slaughtered for them : they were allowed as much 

 rum, and sugar, and noise, and dancing as they 

 chose; and as to the two latter, certainly they 

 profited by the permission. About two o'clock 

 they began to assemble round the house, all drest 

 in their holiday clothes, which, both for men and 



