Page:Slavery, a poem.pdf/18

Rh Gold, better gain'd, by what their ripening sky, Their fertile fields, their arts and mines supply.
 * What wrongs, what injuries does Oppression plead

To smooth the horror of th' unnatural deed? What strange offence, what aggravated sin? They stand convicted—of a darker skin! Barbarians, hold! th' opprobrious commerce spare, Respect his sacred image which they bear: Tho' dark and savage, ignorant and blind, They claim the common privilege of kind; Let Malice strip them of each other plea, They still are men, and men shou'd still be free. Insulted Reason loaths th' inverted trade— Dire change! the agent is the purchase made!