From a lone tower, with rev'rend ivy crown'd,
The pealing bell awaked a tender sigh;
Still, as the village caught the waving sound,
A swelling tear distream'd from every eye.

So droop'd, I ween, each Briton's breast of old,
When the dull curfew spoke their freedom fled;
For, sighing as the mournful accent roll'd,
" Our hope, " they cried, " our kind support, is dead! "

'Twas good Palemon — Near a shaded pool,
A group of ancient elms umbrageous rose;
The flocking rooks, by Instinct's native rule,

Mother! whene'er, around your child,
You clasp your arms in love,
And when, with grateful joy, you raise
Your eyes to God above; —
Think of the wretched mother, when
Her child is torn away,
Sold for a slave; and will you not
For that poor mother pray?

Father! whene'er your happy boys
You gaze upon with pride,
And hope to see them, when you're old,
Stand faithful by your side; —
Think of that father's wither'd heart,
The father of a slave,
Who asks a pitying God to give
His little son a grave!

I.

We know our own true home at last:
The gorgeous dreams of heaven are past:
No angel's harp sounds on the breeze.
Gold wings are gone. We mark instead
White wings above the dahlia bed,
And blue wings o'er the clover leas.

These are our angels — Butterflies,
Blue as the cloudless azure skies,
Or white-winged as the clouds at morn,
Dance o'er the garden-beds, and gleam
Above the hedges. Now we dream

Oh! what can afford the poor slave reparation,
His spirits restore, or his vigor renew?
Golconda's vast treasures were no compensation,
Too trivial a boon were the mines of Peru.

Ye've wrong'd him — yet think on those wrongs with contrition,
Like Zaccheus a four-fold requital bestow;
Your heralds send forth on a merciful mission,
And teach him the way of salvation to know.

Speed — speed ye with this only true compensation,
The slave from his bondage and errors to save;
And Jesus will speak, through his blest revelation,

Across the solemn purple plains of night
The starry light
Falls in a million gold and silver rays.
Within the arch of heaven the star-flowers sing:
Yes, these too bring
Their ceaseless tribute of deep love and praise.

God sowed the fields with daisies — so they say:
With many a ray
Of golden light he sowed the heavens on high.
We are the blossoms of the purple air:
We blossom there,
The buttercups and cowslips of the sky.

One law pervades our being. We arise
Upon the skies
In sudden fiery light and fervent heat: —

My Tankard has a fragrance sweet
And smiles as though in glee,
Boasting that it has touched the lips
Of dear Zenophili.

Ah happy cup! that to my mouth
Her lips would press to-day,
In one long breath allay love's thirst
And drink my soul away.

How long shall Afric's sons
Be sons of grief and pain?
How long shall slavery curse the earth,
And mercy plead in vain?

Lift up your voice to day,
In Freedom's holy cause,
Till all the world in love obey
Their Maker's righteous laws.

Ye Christians! bought with blood
For sinners freely pour'd;
Awake — awake, and make the slave
A freeman of the Lord.

Then in your blissful songs,
Shall bond and free unite,
His praise to spread, to whom belongs
All majesty and might.

There is nothing more sweet than love —
Yea, even honey on my lips
Has lost its savour.
And never will she know the secret of the rose
Who has not tasted of the Cyprian's kisses.

What notes assail mine ear,
Borne on by ev'ry gale!
Soul-piercing shrieks I hear —
The bondman's dying wail!
My blood in ev'ry vein it thrills,
And all my heart with pity fills.

For them no cheering light
Illumes the op'ning tomb;
Beyond is dismal night,
And darkest, densest gloom:
No offer'd grace dispels their fears;
No world of bliss to them appears.

Must these poor souls descend
To regions of despair,
And never know the Friend,
Whose mercy pain would spare?
Dear brethren! no, before they die,

Sweet after storm to sailors' eyes
Are zephyrs in the vernal skies,
To thirsty lips a cup is sweet
Fresh cooled with snow in summer's heat;

But sweeter still when man and maid
Lie hidden close beneath one plaid
And in its warmth together pressed
Find all the might of love confessed.