Epitaph On Wilberforce

Champion of justice and humanity,
He toil'd, through life, to set the Negro free:
At length, Britannia spoke the godlike word
Burst were the bonds, the shouts of Freedom heard!
Thy life-bonds, too, O Wilberforce! were riven,
Thy task was done, it was thy call to heaven!

Thomas Oldham

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Thomas Oldham

Song

Thomas Oldham, Simple Poetry

Epigram On The Conduct Of Some Few Clergymen, Who Are A Disgrace To Their Sacred Profession

Thomas Oldham, Simple Poetry

On Seeing The Apollo Belvidere

Thomas Oldham, Simple Poetry

English

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Sonnet To William Wilberforce, Esq.

Thy country, Wilberforce, with just disdain,
Hears thee by cruel men and impious calld
Fanatic, for thy zeal to loose the enthralld
From exile, public sale, and slaverys chain.
Friend of the poor, the wrongd, the fetter-galld,
Fear not lest labour such as thine be vain.
Thou hast achieved a part; hast gaind the ear
Of Britains senate to thy glorious cause;
Hope smiles, joy springs, and, though cold caution pause
And weave delay, the better hour is near
That shall remunerate thy toils severe,
By peace for Afric, fenced with British laws.
Enjoy what thou hast won, esteem and love
From all the just on earth, and all the blest above.

William Cowper

To Thomas Clarkson

ON THE FINAL PASSING OF THE BILL FOR THE ABOLITION OF THE SLAVE TRADE
MARCH 1807

Clarkson! it was an obstinate hill to climb:
How toilsome nay, how dire it was, by thee
Is known; by none, perhaps, so feelingly:
But thou, who, starting in thy fervent prime,
Didst first lead forth that enterprise sublime,
Hast heard the constant Voice its charge repeat,
Which, out of thy young heart's oracular seat,
First roused thee. O true yoke-fellow of Time,
Duty's intrepid liegeman, see, the palm
Is won, and by all Nations shall be worn!
The blood-stained Writing is for ever torn;
And thou henceforth wilt have a good man's calm,
A great man's happiness; thy zeal shall find
Repose at length, firm friend of human kind!

William Wordsworth

Epitaph On Nelson

Lo! here are Nelson's honour'd relics laid;
Britons! your Country's Genius calls you here,
And bids you pay to your lost Hero's shade
The noble homage of a patriot tear.

Against the fleets of Gallia, Denmark, Spain,
Full oft Britannia's war-bolts he has hurl'd;
Stretch'd forth her sceptre o'er the vanquish'd main,
And with her glory fill'd the astonish'd world.

His matchless triumphs shall the voice of Fame,
With loud applause, to latest ages tell;
Still uttering with a sigh Trafalgar's name,
Where last he conquer'd, where alas! he fell.

Thomas Oldham

Then And Now.

"Build me a nation," said the Lord.
The distant nations heard the word,
Build me a nation true and strong,
Bar out the old world's hate and wrong;
For men had traced with blood and tears
The trail of weary wasting years,
And torn and bleeding martyrs trod
Through fire and torture up to God.

While in the hollow of his hand
God hid the secret of our land,
Men warred against their fiercest foes,
And kingdoms fell and empires rose,
Till, weary of the old world strife,
Men sought for broader, freer life,
And plunged into the ocean's foam
To find another, better home.

And, like a vision fair and bright
The new world broke upon their sight.
Men grasped the prize, grew proud and strong,
And cursed the land with crime and wrong.
The Indi...

Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

The Dying Bondman.

Life was trembling, faintly trembling
On the bondman's latest breath,
And he felt the chilling pressure
Of the cold, hard hand of Death.

He had been an Afric chieftain,
Worn his manhood as a crown;
But upon the field of battle
Had been fiercely stricken down.


He had longed to gain his freedom,
Waited, watched and hoped in vain,
Till his life was slowly ebbing -
Almost broken was his chain.

By his bedside stood the master,
Gazing on the dying one,
Knowing by the dull grey shadows
That life's sands were almost run.

"Master," said the dying bondman,
"Home and friends I soon shall see;
But before I reach my country,
Master write that I am free;

"For the spirits of my fathers
Would shrink back from me in ...

Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

To William Lloyd Garrison

Champion of those who groan beneath
Oppression's iron hand:
In view of penury, hate, and death,
I see thee fearless stand.
Still bearing up thy lofty brow,
In the steadfast strength of truth,
In manhood sealing well the vow
And promise of thy youth.
Go on, for thou hast chosen well;
On in the strength of God!
Long as one human heart shall swell
Beneath the tyrant's rod.
Speak in a slumbering nation's ear,
As thou hast ever spoken,
Until the dead in sin shall hear,
The fetter's link be broken!
I love thee with a brother's love,
I feel my pulses thrill,
To mark thy Spirit soar above
The cloud of human ill.
My heart hath leaped to answer thine,
And echo back thy words,
As leaps the warrior's at the shine
And flash of kindred swo...

John Greenleaf Whittier