And thou, poor Negro ! scorn'd of all mankind ; Thou dumb and impotent, and deaf and bhnd ; Thou dead in spirit ! toU-degraded slave, Crush'd by the curse on Adam to the grave ! The messengers of peace, o'er land and sea,
That sought the sons of sorrow, stoop'd to thee. — The captive raised his slow and sullen eye ; He knew no friend, nor deem'd a friend was nigh, Till the sweet tones of Pity touch'd his ears. And mercy bathed his bosom with her tears ; Strange were those tones, to him those tears were
strange, He wept and wonder'd at the mighty change. Felt the quick pang of keen compunction dart, And heard a small still whisper in his heart, A voice from heaven, that bade the outcast rise From shame on earth to glory in the skies.
From isle to isle the welcome tidings ran ; The slave that heard them started into man :