The Poetical Works of George Barlow In Ten [Eleven] Volumes |
 | I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
 | The Poetical Works of George Barlow |  |
41
CHINESE LABOUR IN SOUTH AFRICA
SONNET
The slave whose wandering foot by Fate was led
To British soil that very hour became
A freeman. Dead, we thought, was England's fame,
Dead every hope, if Liberty fell dead.
But now the halo fades from England's head:
We dally with dishonour. Huge our shame
When the soul's prostitution we proclaim,
Defiling lands where noblest blood was shed!
To British soil that very hour became
A freeman. Dead, we thought, was England's fame,
Dead every hope, if Liberty fell dead.
But now the halo fades from England's head:
We dally with dishonour. Huge our shame
When the soul's prostitution we proclaim,
Defiling lands where noblest blood was shed!
One with the mountains, one-souled with the sea,
We deemed was England, fetterless and free,
For ever pure from Slavery's sordid stain.
But now the yellow myriads we enslave
And with their soulless toil dig Freedom's grave:
Grasping at gold, damnation we attain.
We deemed was England, fetterless and free,
For ever pure from Slavery's sordid stain.
But now the yellow myriads we enslave
And with their soulless toil dig Freedom's grave:
Grasping at gold, damnation we attain.
1904.
| The Poetical Works of George Barlow | |