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Poems

By W. C. Bennett: New ed
  

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THE SLAVERS' WRECK.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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285

THE SLAVERS' WRECK.

A HINT TO CERTAIN EMPERORS.

Ho! godless madmen at the helm,
Ho! slavers on the deck,
Your bark the waves will overwhelm,
Your curst ship goes to wreck;
So let it be; ship sea on sea;
Right through the breakers go;
The rocks that wreck you will but free
Your prison'd slaves below.
God-doom'd, your onward course you shape
With all the skill you can;
His vengeance long you will not 'scape,
Foul fetterers of man!
Godless—accurst—right plain we see
You to destruction go;
Who cares? The rocks that wreck you free
Your prison'd slaves below.
Hark! madmen, through the thickening gloom
I hear the surf's deep roar;
How fast, all reckless of your doom,
You drive towards the shore.
Ho! breakers left and right I see,
Ahead they're white as snow.
Who cares? The rocks that wreck you free
Your prison'd slaves below.
Ah! did you care my course to try,
You might at danger scoff;
Your bondsmen's help with freedom buy;
Quick! strike their fetters off!
But, while they're slaves, no help they'll be;
Too well, ere this, they know,
The rocks that wreck their masters, free
Their prison'd slaves below.