Humanity, or the rights of nature, a poem in two books. By the author of sympathy [i.e. S. J. Pratt] |
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| I. |
| II. |
 | Humanity, or the rights of nature, a poem |  |
Yet mov'd by generous deeds their bosoms burn,
To merit freedom by a kind return,
Methinks I see them leave their native plain,
And touch'd by honour seek their lords again;
Methinks I see them, now no scourge is there,
In willing Tribes to scenes once curs'd repair,
Led on by gratitude they stoop to toil,
Double their industry, and bless the soil,
They quit the whizzing dart and twanging bow,
Collect the grass and reassume the Hoe,
Ev'n troops of sable Children brave the sea,
To kiss the hands which set their fathers free.
Blest expectation! here the Muse shall pause
And watch, HUMANITY, thy righteous cause,
But soon again shall she the globe survey,
And dare the dangers of her promis'd lay,
While in procession pass the human race,
Shall boldly view each tinge of mind as face,
With curious eye the gradual change shall mark,
As wond'rous Nature shifts from light to dark,
Shall visit tribes beneath the polar skies,
Of shape uncouth, diminutive of size.
Pass to the Tartar of an Olive shade,
Untam'd, untutor'd, and robustly made;
Next move to Asia's dusky-tinctur'd race,
Of softer form, nor destitute of grace;
Then the swarth African and yellow Moor,
Which spread their sable hues along the shore,
Last, wild America's eventful clan,
And European cultur'd into Man.
To merit freedom by a kind return,
Methinks I see them leave their native plain,
And touch'd by honour seek their lords again;
Methinks I see them, now no scourge is there,
In willing Tribes to scenes once curs'd repair,
Led on by gratitude they stoop to toil,
Double their industry, and bless the soil,
They quit the whizzing dart and twanging bow,
Collect the grass and reassume the Hoe,
Ev'n troops of sable Children brave the sea,
To kiss the hands which set their fathers free.
Blest expectation! here the Muse shall pause
And watch, HUMANITY, thy righteous cause,
But soon again shall she the globe survey,
And dare the dangers of her promis'd lay,
While in procession pass the human race,
Shall boldly view each tinge of mind as face,
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As wond'rous Nature shifts from light to dark,
Shall visit tribes beneath the polar skies,
Of shape uncouth, diminutive of size.
Pass to the Tartar of an Olive shade,
Untam'd, untutor'd, and robustly made;
Next move to Asia's dusky-tinctur'd race,
Of softer form, nor destitute of grace;
Then the swarth African and yellow Moor,
Which spread their sable hues along the shore,
Last, wild America's eventful clan,
And European cultur'd into Man.
| Humanity, or the rights of nature, a poem | |