'Twould do your heart good to see 'em below
Lie flat on their backs all the way as we go,
Like sprats on a gridiron, scores in a row,
Which nobody, &c.

But ah! if in vain I have studied an art
So gainful to me, all boasting apart,
I think it will break my compassionate heart,
Which nobody, &c.

For oh! how it enters my soul like an awl!
This pity, which some people self-pity call,
Is sure the most heart-piercing pity of all,
Which nobody, &c.

29

So this is my song, as I told you before;
Come buy off my stock, for I must no more
Carry Cæsars and Pompeys to Sugar-cane shore, 35
Which nobody can deny, deny,

Which nobody can deny.

[Written early in 1788. Published 1800 (vol. I. Appendix).] I OWN I am shock'd at the purchase of slaves, And fear those who buy them and sell them are

knaves;

What I hear of their hardships, their tortures, and

groans,

Is almost enough to draw pity from stones.

I pity them greatly, but I must be mum,
For how could we do without sugar and rum?
Especially sugar, so needful we see?

What? give up our desserts, our coffee, and tea! 8

Besides, if we do, the French, Dutch, and Danes,
Will heartily thank us, no doubt, for our pains;
If we do not buy the poor creatures, they will,
And tortures and groans will be multiplied still.

If foreigners likewise would give up the trade, Much more in behalf of your wish might be said; But while they get riches by purchasing blacks, Pray tell me why we may not also go snacks ? 16

Your scruples and arguments bring to my mind
A story so pat, you may think it is coin'd,
On purpose to answer you, out of my mint;
But, I can assure you, I saw it in print.

A youngster at school, more sedate than the rest,
Had once his integrity put to the test;

His comrades had plotted an orchard to rob,
And ask'd him to go and assist in the job.

24

He was shock'd, sir, like you, and answer'd-"Oh, no! What! rob our good neighbour! Ipray you, don't go; Besides, the man's poor, his orchard's his bread, Then think of his children, for they must be fed.”

"You speak very fine, and you look very grave,
But apples we want, and apples we'll have;
If you will go with us, you shall have a share,
If not, you shall have neither apple nor pear."

32

They spoke, and Tom ponder'd-"I see they will go:
Poor man! what a pity to injure him so !
Poor man! I would save him his fruit if I could,
But staying behind will do him no good.

"If the matter depended alone upon me,
His apples might hang till they dropt from the tree;
But, since they will take them, I think I'll go too,
He will lose none by me, though I get a few."

His scruples thus silenc'd, Tom felt more at ease,
And went with his comrades the apples to seize;
He blam'd and protested, but join'd in the plan;
He shar'd in the plunder, but pitied the man.

EPIGRAM

(PRINTED IN THE NORTHAMPTON MERCURY) [Written (?). Published by Johnson, 1815.]

To purify their wine some people bleed
A lamb into the barrel, and succeed;
No nostrum, planters say, is half so good
To make fine sugar, as a negro's blood.

40

Now lambs and negroes both are harmless things, And thence perhaps this wond'rous virtue springs, "Tis in the blood of innocence alone

Good cause why planters never try their own. 8

SONNET

ADDRESSED TO HENRY COWPER, ESQ., CLERK ASSISTANT TO THE HOUSE OF LORDS

On his emphatical and interesting delivery of the Defence of WARREN HASTINGS, Esq.

[Written Feb., 1788. Published April, 1788, in The Gentleman's Magazine, with the signature T. H.; afterwards in 1800.] COWPER, whose silver voice, task'd sometimes hard, Legends prolix delivers in the ears

(Attentive when thou read'st) of England's Peers, Let verse at length yield thee thy just reward. Thou wast not heard with drowsy disregard, Expending late on all that length of plea

Thy gen'rous pow'rs, but silence honour'd thee, Mute as e'er gaz'd on Orator or Bard.

Thou art not voice alone, but hast beside

Both heart and head; and could'st with music sweet
Of Attic phrase and senatorial tone,

Like thy renown'd Forefathers, far and wide
Thy fame diffuse, prais'd not for utt'rance meet
Of others' speech, but magic of thy own.

GRATITUDE

ADDRESSED TO LADY HESKETH

11

[Written April, 1788. Published by Hayley, 1803. Southey, in 1836, printed the poem in its original form as sent to Lady Hesketh. This version differs very largely from that given in the text, and is therefore here printed entire in the notes at the end of the volume.]

THIS cap, that so stately appears,

With ribbon-bound tassel on high,
Which seems, by the crest that it rears,
Ambitious of brushing the sky:
This cap to my cousin I owe,

She gave it, and gave me beside,
Wreath'd into an elegant bow,

The ribbon with which it is tied.
This wheel-footed studying chair,

Contriv'd both for toil and repose,
Wide-elbow'd, and wadded with hair,
In which I both scribble and doze,
Bright-studded to dazzle the eyes,
And rival in lustre of that,
In which, or astronomy lies,
Fair Cassiopeia sat:

Sonnet-4 yield] give 1788.

8

16

These carpets, so soft to the foot,
Caledonia's traffic and pride!

Oh spare them, ye Knights of the Boot!
Escap'd from a cross-country ride!
This table and mirror within,

Secure from collision and dust,
At which I oft shave cheek and chin,
And periwig nicely adjust:

This moveable structure of shelves,
For its beauty admir'd and its use,
And charg'd with octavos and twelves,
The gayest I had to produce,
Where, flaming in scarlet and gold,
My Poems enchanted I view,
And hope, in due time, to behold
My Iliad and Odyssey too:

This china, that decks the alcove,
Which here people call a beaufette,

But what the Gods call it above,

24

32

Has ne'er been reveal'd to us yet: These curtains, that keep the room warm Or cool, as the season demands, These stoves, that for pattern and form Seem the labour of Mulciber's hands: 40

All these are not half that I owe

To one, from our earliest youth
To me ever ready to show

Benignity, friendship, and truth,
For Time, the destroyer declar'd
And foe of our perishing kind,
If even her face he has spar'd,

Much less could he alter her mind.

48

Thus compass'd about with the goods
And chattels of leisure and ease,

I indulge my poetical moods

In many such fancies as these; And fancies I fear they will seem,

Poets' goods are not often so fine;

The poets will swear that I dream,

When I sing of the splendour of mine. 56

PAIRING TIME ANTICIPATED

A FABLE

[Written (?). Published 1795.]

I SHALL not ask Jean Jacques Rousseau',
If birds confabulate or no ;

'Tis clear that they were always able
To hold discourse, at least, in fable;
And ev❜n the child who knows no better,
Than to interpret by the letter,

A story of a cock and bull,

Must have a most uncommon skull.
It chanc'd then, on a winter's day,

But warm and bright, and calm as May,
The birds, conceiving a design

To forestal sweet St. Valentine,

In many an orchard, copse, and grove,
Assembled on affairs of love,

And with much twitter and much chatter,
Began to agitate the matter.

At length a Bulfinch, who could boast

More years and wisdom than the most,
Entreated, op'ning wide his beak,
A moment's liberty to speak;
And, silence publicly enjoin'd,
Deliver'd briefly thus his mind.

My friends! be cautious how ye treat
The subject upon which we meet;

I fear we shall have winter yet.

A Finch, whose tongue knew no control,
With golden wing and satin pole,
A last year's bird, who ne'er had tried
What marriage means, thus pert replied.
Methinks the gentleman, quoth she,
Opposite in the apple-tree,

By his good will, would keep us single
Till yonder heav'n and earth shall mingle,
Or (which is likelier to befall)

Till death exterminate us all.

I marry without more ado;

My dear Dick Redcap, what say you?

Dick heard, and tweedling, ogling, bridling, Turning short round, strutting and sideling,

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20

30

1 It was one of the whimsical speculations of this philosopher, that all fables which ascribe reason and speech to animals, should be withheld from children, as being only vehicles of deception. But what child was ever deceived by them, or can be, against the evidence of his senses? [C.]