 | The Poetical Works of Thomas Pringle |  |
71
XIV. TO OPPRESSION.
Oppression! I have seen thee, face to face,And met thy cruel eye and cloudy brow:
But thy soul-withering glance I fear not now;
For dread to prouder feelings doth give place
Of deep abhorrence. Scorning the disgrace
Of slavish knees that near thy footstool bow,
I also kneel—but with far other Vow
Do hail thee and thy herd of hirelings base.
I swear, while life-blood warms my throbbing veins,
Still to oppose and thwart with heart and hand
Thy brutalising sway—till Afric's chains
Are burst, and Freedom rules the rescued land,—
Trampling Oppression and his iron rod.
—Such is the Vow I take—So help me God!
1825.
| The Poetical Works of Thomas Pringle | |