Dear CUMBERLAND, whose various powers 210 Preserve thy life from languid hours, Thou scholar, statesman, traveller, wit, Who prose and verse alike canst hit; Whose gay _West-Indian_ on our stage, Alone might check this stupid rage; 215 Fastidious yet--O! condescend To range with an advent'rous friend: Together let us beat the rounds, St. Giles's ample blackguard bounds: Try what th' accurs'd _Short's Garden_ yields, 220 His bludgeon where the _Flash-man_ wields; Where female votaries of sin, With fetid rags and breath of gin, Like antique statues stand in rows, Fine fragments sure, but ne'er a nose. 225 Let us with calmness ascertain The liberty of _Lewkner's Lane_, And _Cockpit-Alley_--_Stewart's Rents_, Where the fleec'd drunkard oft repents. With BENTLEY'S{13} critical _acumen_ 230 Explore the haunts of evil's _Numen_; And in the _hundreds_ of _Old Drury_, Descant _de legibus Naturae_{14}. Let's prowl the courts of _Newton-Street_, Where infamy and murder meet; 235 Where CARPMEAL{15} must with caution tread, MACMANUS tremble for his head, JEALOUS look sharp with all his eyes, And TOWNSHEND apprehend surprise; And having view'd the horrid maze, 240 Let's justify the Planter's ways. Lo then, in yonder fragrant isle Where Nature ever seems to smile, The cheerful _gang_{16}!--the negroes see Perform the task of industry: Ev'n at their labour hear them sing, 245 While time flies quick on downy wing; Finish'd the bus'ness of the day, No human beings are more gay: Of food, clothes, cleanly lodging sure, Each has his property secure; 250 Their wives and children are protected, In sickness they are not neglected; And when old age brings a release, Their grateful days they end in peace. But should our Wrongheads have their will, 255 Should Parliament approve their bill, Pernicious as th' effect would be, T' abolish negro slavery, Such partial freedom would be vain, Since Love's strong empire must remain. 260 VENUS, Czarina of the skies, Despotick by her killing eyes, Millions of slaves who don't complain, Confess her universal reign: And _Cupid_ too well-us'd to try 265 His bow-string lash, and darts to ply, Her little _Driver_ still we find, A wicked rogue, although he's blind. Bring me not maxims from the schools; Experience now my conduct rules; 270 O ------! trust thy lover true, I must and will be slave to you.