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Show 82 d in scorn, In servitude, and nurse . ht Casting aside the weary wetg And fe tters of its low estate, · ·ty of soul, In that strong maje> t ngue or clime- Which knows no color, 1 o base control Which still hath spurned t 'e ' I all ume. Of tyrants throug 1 ' . y wreath d 1 nunc ma For other han s t mn f death The laurel round t~ty bro':~~e whos~ word And speak lhy praa~~' astirred- A thousand fiery sptnts s ' vorm- Who crushed h' f mau as a' IS oe fell firm:- ·whose step on human hearts Be mine the b c tte r task .t o fmd ·u t for thy lofty mmd, A tn u e , (l'cance shone Amidst whose gloomy \ Cilo Some milder virtues all thine own,- Some g1 c ams o f feelinu pure and warm, !::) , Like sunshine on a sl{y ol storm,--:Proofs that the Negro's heart retams bleness amidst ItS chams,- Somc no cr d is never That kindness to the \vronoe . 'Vithout its excellent rewnnl,Holy to human-kind, anu ever Acceptable to Goo. OUR COUNTRYMEN. These lines nrc by lhc accomplished sister of the poet. The editor hopes to be panloncd lly their wl"itct·, while he is certain of recei,•ing the thanks of readers fitr inserting them. • \Ve do nt'lt know when we ha\'e rcarl any thing which grated more har:;hly ttpon out· nnpulilican feelings , than the following sentence. 1t is f•·om a leiter of a young Amcrican, g i,•iug an account of his interview with Prince .1\lcttcrnich. Js it then true, th01t any of our iuSLitutions arc such as to gi,·e pleasure to the Prime .1\lini.s· tcr of Europeau despotism 1 And is it also true that the eR"cct ol these in>;titutions upt•tt the morals of any of our citizens is such, as to make them a:;haml'd of the honest pttr8uits of industry 1 If so, is it not time tht>y were modified 1 '-St. LouiiJ Observer. • Among othf'r thiug.~, the Prince a~kt:d me if I was engaged in commerce. (Now J knew commerce wa:3 tlcspilled here.) 1 allswered1 1 w;u; the proprietor of land and Slave&. The company seemed to Lc pleased; for each llnngarian ot· Scn•ian nobleman is so, under the feudal system of this d::ly.' MonNII'G o'er proud Vienna! on spire and palace wail, A broad, bright coloring of gold, the early sunbeams fall- |
