No Abolition of Slavery Or the Universal Empire of Love, A poem

Excerpt

NO ABOLITION OF SLAVERY:
OR,
THE UNIVERSAL EMPIRE OF LOVE.

ADDRESSED TO MISS ——.

——Most pleasing of thy sex,
Born to delight and never vex;
Whose kindness gently can controul
My wayward turbulence of soul.
Pry’thee, my dearest, dost thou read,
The MorningPrints, and ever heed
Minutes, which tell how time’s mispent,
In either House of Parliament?
See, with the front of Jove!
But not like Jove with thunder grac’d,10
In Westminster’s superb alcove
Like the unhappy Theseus plac’d.
Day after day indignant swells
His generous breast, while still he hears
Impeachment’sfierce relentless yells,15
Which stir his bile and grate his ears.
And what a dull vain barren shew
St. Stephen’sluckless Chapel fills;
Our notions of respect how low,
While fools bring in their idle Bills.
Noodles, who rave for abolition
Ofth’ African’s improv’d condition,
At your own cost fine projects try;
Dontrob—frompure humanity.
Go, W———, with narrow scull,
Go home, and preach away at Hull,
No longer to thecackle,
In strains which suit the Tabernacle;
I hate your little wittling sneer,
Your pert and self-sufficient leer,30
Mischief to Trade sits on thy lip,
Insects will gnaw the noblest ship;
Go, W———, be gone, for shame,
Thou dwarf, with a big-sounding name.
Poor inefficient, we see35
Nocapabilityin thee,
Th’ immortal spirit of thy Sire
Has borne away th’ æthereal fire,
And left thee but the earthy dregs,—
Let’s never have thee on thy legs;40
’Tis too provoking, sure, to feel,
A kick from such a puny heel.
Pedantick pupil of old Sherry,
Whose shrugs and jerks would make us merry,
If not by tedious languor wrung—45
Hold thy intolerable tongue.
DrawcansirDolbenwould destroy
Both slavery and licentious joy;
Foe to all sorts ofplanters, he
Will suffer neitherbondnorfree.
Go we to the Committee room,
There gleams of light conflict with gloom,
While unread rheams in chaos lye,
Our water closets to supply.
What frenzies will a rabble seize
In lax luxurious days, like these;
The People’s Majesty, forsooth,
Must fix our rights, define our truth;
Weaversbecome our Lords of Trade,
And every clown throw by his spade,60
T’instructour ministers of state,
Andforeign commerceregulate:
Ev’nbonyScotland with her dirk,
Nay, her starv’d presbyteriankirk,
With ignorant effrontery prays65
Britain to dim the western rays,
Which while they on our island fall
Give warmth and splendour to us all.
See in a stall three feet by four,
Where door is window, window door,70
Saloop a hump-back’d cobler drink;
“Withhimthe muse shall sit and think;”
Heshall insentimentalstrain,
Thatnegroesareoppress’d, complain.
What mutters the decrepit creature?75
The Dignity of Human Nature!
Windham, I won’t suppress a gibe.
WhilstThouart with the whining tribe;
Thou who hast sail’d in a balloon,
And touch’d, intrepid, at the moon,80
(Hence, as the Ladies say you wander,
By much too fickle a Philander:)
ShaltThou, a Roman free and rough,
Descend to weakblue stockingstuff,
And cherish feelings soft and kind,85
Till you emasculate your mind....