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THE NEGRO'S COMPLAINT. FORCED from home and all its pleasures, Afric’s coast I left forlorn ; To increase a stranger’s treasures. O’er the raging billows borne. Men from England bought and sold me. Paid my price in paltry gold ; But, though theirs they have enroll’d me. Minds are never to be sold.

Still in thought as free as eve, What are England’s rights, I ask. Me from my delights to sever. Me to torture, me to task ? Fleecy locks and black complexion Cannot forfeit nature’s claim ; Skins may differ, but affection Dwells in white and black the same.

Why did all-creating nature Make the plant for which we toil ? Sighs must fan it, tears must water, Sweat of ours must dress the soil. Think, ye masters iron-hearted. Lolling at your jovial boards; Think how many backs have smarted For the sweets your cane affords.

Is there, as ye sometimes tell us. Is there one who reigns on high ? Has he bid you buy and sell us, Speaking from his throne the sky? Ask him, if your knotted scourges, Matches, blood-extorting screws.