The Death of . CO. A L I C O. An African Slave, condemned for Rebellion, in Jamaica, 1762. BY BRYANT EDWARDS, ESQ. of Jamaica. * IS paft :-Ah! calm thy cares to rest! 'T' Firm and unmov'd am Ι In freedom's cause I bar'd my breaft,- Ah ftop! thou doft me fatal wrong: For I have lov'd thee very long, And lov'd thee very well. To native fkies and peaceful bow'rs, I foon fhall wing my way; Where joy fhall lead the circling hours, Unless too long thy stay. *He is fuppofed to address his wife at the place of execution, O fpeed, fair fun! thy courfe divine; There thy bright beams fhall ever shine, On thefe bleft fhores-a flave no more! Or roufe to chase the mountain boar, No chriftian tyrant there is known Yet I have heard the melting tongue, Now, Chriftian, glut thy ravifh'd eyes! But know, pale tyrant, 'tis not thine The death thou giv'ft fhall but combine rage. O death, how welcome to th' opprest! Thou bring'ft to mis'ry's bofom reft, A Ipfe cava folans agrum teftudine amorem, I. T length escap'd from every human eye, That in my mournful thoughts might claim a share, Of grief furpaffing every other woe.. II. Ye tufted groves, ye gently falling rills, Ye lawns gay-fmiling with eternal green, But never fhall you now behold her more: III. Oft would the Dryads of these woods rejoice For her defpifing, when the deign'd to fing, And every fhepherd's flute Was caft in filent fcorn away, For death has ftop'd that tuneful tongue, Whofe mufic could alone your warbling notes excel. IV. In vain I look around O'er all the well known ground. We faw the fummer fun go down the sky; Can aught of her espy, But the fad facred earth where her dear relics lie. V. O fhades of Hy, where is now your boast? You the prefer'd to all the gay reforts And flow'r-embroider'd vales From an admiring world fhe chofe to fly;" VI. Sweet babes, who, like the little playful fawns, Were wont to trip along these verdant lawns By your delighted mother's fide, Who now your infant fteps fhall guide? Ah! where is now the hand whofe tender care To every virtue would have form'd your Youth, And firew d with flow'rs the thorny ways of Truth? |