( 286 ) 
“s 
ORIGINAL POETRY. 
“THE NEGRO, — 
By Miss HorcrorT, 
(The Lines in Italics excepted. ) 
PP‘RANSPIERC’D with many a ftreamia& 
wound, 
The Negro lay, invoking death: 
His blood o’erflow’d the reeking ground—= 
He, gafping, drew his languid breath. 
His fable cheek was ghaftly, cold ; 
Convulfive groans their prifon broke : 
His eyes in fearful horror roll’d, 
+ While thus the wretch his anguith {poke: 
6¢ Accurfed be the Chriftian race 3 
Infatiate is their iron foul: 
To hunt our fons—their fav’rite chacem— 
They goad and lafh without control. 
“¢ Torn from our frantic mother’s breaft, 
We bear our tyrant’s galling chains ; 
Deny’d e’en death, that iulls to reff, 
The keeneft woe, and fierceft pains. 
<¢ From fun to funthe Negro toils ; 
No {miles approve his trufty care ; 
And, when th’ indignant mind recoils, 
His doom is whips, and black defpair. 
66 Yet, Chriftians teach faith, hope, and love: 
Their God of mercy oft implore ; 
But cam-barbarians mercy prove, 
Or a benignant Ged adore ? 
é¢ Hear then my, groans, oh, Chriftian God! 
Thy curfes hurl—but, no! forbear. 
Let Chriftians wield Opprefficn’s rod, 
Spread hatred, woe, and wild defpair. 
66 While I a nobler courfe fur fue, 
Yes, let me die as I would tive! 
Yes, let nie teach this Chriffian crew, 
The dying Negro can forg give. 
«And if, indeed, that pow r be thine, 
O Chriftian God! in mercy move 
Thy peoples hearts, hy pow'r se iney 
To juftice, gentlenefs, avd love 
The fuff’rer ceas’d, death chill’d his veins ; 
His mangl’d limbs grew {tiff and cold ; 
Yet whips nor racks infli@ the pains 
Men feel who barter Man fox Gold. 
Of. 13) 1797. 
SSS 
FREDERIC tro CELIA. 
oa ! my lovely, fafcinating maid, 
‘Long haft thou known my ’ fondly partial 
mind, 
Confcious it cannot have a thought betray’d 
To thee unfriendly, faithlefs, or unkind, 

And when I’ve urg’d, with tendernefs, my 
zeal, 
Though Celia ghd, her candid heart ap- 
prov’d, 
Nor ftrove the foft impreffion to conceal, 
Her modeft whifpers have confefs’d fhe lov’d. 
I pleafure trace, in retrofpect of years, 
Only whene’er my Celia has been nigh 5 
Too gen’rous to create, or doubts or fears, 
~She never caus’d, from aught but love a figh. 
Like as the vernal fun difpels the dews, 
Swells the young germ, incites the bud to 
blows \ 
Her merits o’er the tafteful mind diffufe 
A warm, congenial, emulative glow. 
For 'Tafte herfelf, from early age, has been 
My Celia’s tu’trefs, and her conftant friend ; 
And oft with her is lib’ral fcience feen; 
The wife and polifh’d deign her fteps attend, 
But Oftentation finds no welcome near, 
Nor Vanity, the frequent female guide ; 
Nor Envy, with detractive fpeech fevere, 
Nor gaudy, vacant, felf-conceited Pride. 1 
For fhe, fufceptible of ev'ry grace, 
Difdains capricious modes or arts to try, - 
T? affume difiembled paffion on her face, 
Where fenfe and meeknefs are in harmony. 
Live ever he, whom gorgeous pomp may - 
pleafe, 
Encircl’d with the di’mond’s dazzling beams ; 
Let him, who ev’ry goad in riches fees, 
Delighted realize his goiden dreams. 
The man, whofe lofty mind ambition {waysy 
Let him the regal diadem obtain ; f 
To me more welcome far is Celia’s praife, 
Fhan pomp, or kingly pow’r, or fordid gain. 
Were I to drain Pema’s prolific mines, 
And fully fatiate all defire of wealth ; 
A higher blefling on my vilion fhines, 
Whene’er I Celia fee in rofeate health. 
More luftre beams from her exprefiive eves, 
Than brighteft. gems from ace fhores 
dif play ; 5 . 
Far more than theirs, her mjnad’s pure Tiaht ] 
prize, 
Diffufing round an intelle@ual day. - 
Bat jook! thofe lovely eyes dejected, fad ! 
My mind depreft, is o’erwhelm’d with care 5 
If cheerful, then my joyous heart is glad, 
Nor doubt, nor.apprehenfion harbours there. 
Had I the pow’r my beauteous maid to blefs, 
The world’s parade I freely could refign5 
For 
