A Poem On The African Slave Trade. Addressed To Her Own Sex. Part II (Mary Birkett Card Poems)
ERST, when the Muse of Pity o'er me stole,And kindled new ideas in my soul;When Nature's rude effusions pour'd along,Impell'd ...
ERST, when the Muse of Pity o'er me stole,And kindled new ideas in my soul;When Nature's rude effusions pour'd along,Impell'd ...
COME ye deep shades of night, that from the viewOf an unpitying world the wretched shroud,That give the harass'd limbs ...
Upon those lips of her's is there not a black hand-maid?(Khoshal Khan Khattak)
Ah, Needwood! I, whose early voiceTaught thy shrill echoes to rejoice;I, who first pour'd the sylvan songThy glades, thy banks, ...
Once I to idols knelt before an empty shrine; Within my lofty walls a soldier-folk abode;Now, casting down my ...
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