Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 1.djvu/57

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By those who there imprison'd die Where the black herd promiscuous lie, By the scourges blacken'd o'erAnd stiff and hard with human gore, By every groan of deep distress,By every curse of wretchedness,By all the train of Crimes that flow From the hopelessness of Woe,By every drop of blood bespilt,By Afric's wrongs and Europe's guilt, Awake! arise! avenge!
And thou hast heard! and o'er their blood-fed plains Swept thine avenging hurricanes;And bade thy storms with whirlwind roarDash their proud navies on the shore;And where their armies claim'd the fightWither'd all the warrior's might;And o'er the unholy host with baneful breathThere Genius thou hast breath'd the gales of Death.[1]1795.
  1. ↑ Alluding to the fatalities attending the British Armament to, and in, the West Indies.
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