You scorn the Titan's threat; nor shall I strain The powers of pathos in a task so vain As Afric's wrongs to sing; for what avails To harp for you these known familiar tales? To tongue mute misery, and re-rack the soul With crimes oft copied from that bloody scroll Where Slavery pens her woes; tho tis but there We learn the weight that mortal life can be. The tale might startle still the accustom'd ear, Still shake the nerve that pumps the pearly tear, Melt every heart, and thro the nation gain Full many a voice to break the barbarous chain. But why to sympathy for guidance fly, (Her aids uncertain and of scant supply) When your own self-excited sense affords A guide more sure, and every sense accords? Where strong self-interest, join'd with duty, lies, Where doing right demands no sacrifice, Where profit, pleasure, life-expanding fame League their allurements to support the claim, Tis safest there the impleaded cause to trust; Men well instructed will be always just. From slavery then your rising realms to save, Regard the master, notice not the slave; Consult alone for freemen, and bestow Your best, your only cares, to keep them so. Tyrants are never free; and, small and great, All masters must be tyrants soon or late; So nature works; and oft the lordling knave Turns out at once a tyrant and a slave, Struts, cringes, bullies, begs, as courtiers must, Makes one a god, another treads in dust, Fears all alike, and filches whom he can, But knows no equal, finds no friend in man. Ah! would you not be slaves, with lords and kings, Then be not masters; there the danger springs. The whole crude system that torments this earth, Of rank, privation, privilege of birth, False honor, fraud, corruption, civil jars, The rage of conquest and the curse of wars, Pandora's total shower, all ills combined That erst o'erwhelm'd and still distress mankind, Box'd up secure in your deliberate hand, Wait your behest, to fix or fly this land. Equality of Right is nature's plan; And following nature is the march of man. Whene'er he deviates in the least degree, When, free himself, he would be more than free, The baseless column, rear'd to bear his bust, Falls as he mounts, and whelms him in the dust. See Rome's rude sires, with autocratic gait, Tread down their tyrant and erect their state; Their state secured, they deem it wise and brave That every freeman should command a slave, And, flusht with franchise of his camp and town, Rove thro the world and hunt the nations down; Master and man the same vile spirit gains, Rome chains the world, and wears herself the chains.