Where the hoar monarch in his veft of fnow,
Afcends the hills where funs refuse to glow.
Vain all difpute of colour, form or fize,
* In pride, in pride alone the difference lies;'
Whence, then, prefumptuous man, deriv'd thy
right,

And by what law does olive yield to white?
Their nature, origin, and end, the fame,

Why has not brown, black, copper, equal claim?
Tho' fhifting colours like their parent earth,
Alike their fpecies and alike their birth.

If not in colour then, perchance in fenfe, In the foul's power, may lie the proud pretence, Ah no! from Nature's hand all equal came, Thro' ev'ry clime an helpless babe's the fame, The fame frail emblem of our ftate appears, A weak and helplefs being born in tears! If cultur'd climes refine on nature's plan,

They change the mode, but never change the

man.

"In pride, in reas'ning pride, our error lies."

The hunan paflions: ftrougly are imprefs'd, 』,! In the untutor'd, as the polifh'd breaft;

In the fwarth African that's bought and fold,...
As the fair plunderer that fteals his gold,
Heav'n form'd his eyes to love his native hue,
And pointed all his appetites as true,

Thofe fable tints, at which with fear we start,
Are the lov'd colours that attract his heart:
Our polifh'd arts, refinement may bestow,
But oft enfeeble naturels genuine glow:

In polifh'd arts unnumber'd virtues lie, But ah! unnumber'd vices they supply;. Here, if they bloom with ev'ry gentler good,

1

There are they fleep'd with more than favage

blood..

Here, with Refinement,; if fweet Pity ftands, f There, Luxury found them mufters all her bands, "Tis not enough that daily flaughter feeds,: ""

That the fith leaves. its ftream, the lamb its

That the reluctant ox is dragg'd along,
And the bird ravifh'd from its tender fong,

That

1

That in reward of all her mufic, giv'n,...
The lark is murder'd as the foars to Heaven:
'Tis not enough, our appetites require
That on their altars hecatombs expire;
But cruel man, with more than beastial power,
Muft heap fresh horrors on life's parting hour:
Full many a being that bestows its breath,
Must prove the pang that waits a ling'ring death,
Here, close pent up, must gorge unwholesome
food,

There, render drop by drop the fmoaking blood;
The quiv'ring flesh improves as flow it dies,
And Lux'ry fees th' augmented whiteness rife;
Some gafh'd and mangled feel the torturer's art,
Writhe in their wounds, tho' fav'd each vital part.
Afk you the caufe? the food more tender grows,
And callous Lux'ry triumphs in the blows;
For this, are fome to raging flames.confign'd
While yet alive, to footh our taste refin'd!

O power of mercy, that fufpends the rod!
O fhame to man, impiety to God!
Thou polish'd Christian, in th' untutor'd see,
The facred rights of blefs'd HUMANITY.

Thine is the World, thy crimson fpoils enjoy,
But let no wanton arts thy foul employ,

Live, tho' thou do'st on blood, ah! still refrain,
To load thy victims with fuperfluous pain;
Ev'n the gaunt tyger, tho' no life he faves,
In generous hate devours what famine craves;
The beftial paw may check thy human hands,
And teach dispatch to what thy want demands,
Abridge thy facrifice, and bid thy knife,

FOR HUNGER KILL, BUT NEVER SPORT WITH

LIFE.

Relief

appears as the Mufe fhifts her place, To where pure manners blefs the gentleft race; Lo, where the BRAMINS pafs their blameless life, Free from proud culture, free from polish'd ftrife To man, brute, infect, nature's conftant friends, The heart embraces and the hand extends: See the meek tribe refufe the worm to kill,

No murder feeds them, and no blood they fpill; But

crop the living herbage as it grows,

And quaff the living water as it flows,
From the full herds, the miky banquet bear,
And the kind herds repay with patures fair;

From

From fanguine man, they drive the game away, From fanguine man they fave, the finny prey, The copious grain they fcatter o'er the mead, The bird to nourish and the beast to feed,

The flowers their couch, their roof the arching

trees,.

And peaceful nights fucceed to days of eafe.

O! thou proud Chriftian, aid fair nature's

grace,

And catch compaffion from the Bramin race:
Their kind extremes, and vegetable fare,

Their tender maxims, all that breathe to fpare,
Suit not thy cultur'd ftate, but thou shouldft know,
Like them to fave unneceffary woe;
Like them to give each generous feeling birth,
And prove the friend not tyrant of the earth.

O fweet HUMANITY! might pity fway,
All, all like Bramins would thy voice obey;
All need, alas! thy tender help below,
To heighten rapture and to folace woe.
One leans on all, for aid, not all on one,
What worm fo feeble as proud man alone?