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 |  |
Zebron and Zabor of the jetty race,
Were first in feature and proportion'd grace,
Bright as the Antelope their radiant eyes,
As the proud Palm-tree tower'd their equal size,
Both wore alike the Tyger's speckled spoil,
Brothers in dress, in pastime and in toil;
Slaves tho' they were, ev'n Slav'ry had its charms,
For Zebron's comfort was in Zabor's arms,
And Zabor fainting on the arid sand,
Was rear'd to Joy by gentle Zebron's hand,
By bliss united much, by sorrow more,
A Negro's Fate they soften'd while they bore;
But Love, at last, a keener pang imparts,
For sable Zelia triumph'd o'er their hearts;
Her skin of Ebony bestow'd a grace,
That far outshone an alabaster face,
So thought the youths, with equal truth inspir'd,
With all their passion, all their climate fir'd;
Each scorn'd to ravish, each refus'd to yield,
And Love and Friendship both maintain'd the field,
Devouring torments spread the mutual flame,
But still their friendship, still their love the same;
When beauteous Zelia in their view appears,
Zebron and Zabor melt in mutul tears,
Oft, both embracing, to renounce her swear,
And Friendship seems to link them in despair;
At length their conflicts, big with every grief,
And ev'ry passion, sought a dire relief.
At close of day as Zelia trac'd the wood,
The Lovers follow'd and before her stood,
The wand'ring Maid too fatal in her charms,
Now snatch'd to Zebron's now to Zabor's arms;
The fondest vows that ever Lovers swore,
The deepest groans that ever heav'd they pour,
Then, with clos'd eyes, and heads declin'd, they dart,
The mutual daggers in her bounding heart;
Speechless she fell, her sobs their shrieks confound,
They clasp the victim, and they kiss the wound,
Then raise the poignards streaming in her blood,
And with their own augment the crimson flood.
Were first in feature and proportion'd grace,
Bright as the Antelope their radiant eyes,
As the proud Palm-tree tower'd their equal size,
Both wore alike the Tyger's speckled spoil,
Brothers in dress, in pastime and in toil;
Slaves tho' they were, ev'n Slav'ry had its charms,
For Zebron's comfort was in Zabor's arms,
And Zabor fainting on the arid sand,
Was rear'd to Joy by gentle Zebron's hand,
79
A Negro's Fate they soften'd while they bore;
But Love, at last, a keener pang imparts,
For sable Zelia triumph'd o'er their hearts;
Her skin of Ebony bestow'd a grace,
That far outshone an alabaster face,
So thought the youths, with equal truth inspir'd,
With all their passion, all their climate fir'd;
Each scorn'd to ravish, each refus'd to yield,
And Love and Friendship both maintain'd the field,
Devouring torments spread the mutual flame,
But still their friendship, still their love the same;
When beauteous Zelia in their view appears,
Zebron and Zabor melt in mutul tears,
Oft, both embracing, to renounce her swear,
And Friendship seems to link them in despair;
At length their conflicts, big with every grief,
And ev'ry passion, sought a dire relief.
At close of day as Zelia trac'd the wood,
The Lovers follow'd and before her stood,
80
Now snatch'd to Zebron's now to Zabor's arms;
The fondest vows that ever Lovers swore,
The deepest groans that ever heav'd they pour,
Then, with clos'd eyes, and heads declin'd, they dart,
The mutual daggers in her bounding heart;
Speechless she fell, her sobs their shrieks confound,
They clasp the victim, and they kiss the wound,
Then raise the poignards streaming in her blood,
And with their own augment the crimson flood.
| Humanity, or the rights of nature, a poem | |