Full Online Books
BOOK CATEGORIES
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
LINKS
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
donate
Full Online Book HomePoemsSonnet 4: Slave Trade ('tis Night; The Mercenary Tyrants Sleep)
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
Sonnet 4: Slave Trade ('tis Night; The Mercenary Tyrants Sleep) Post by :vernpet Category :Poems Author :Robert Southey Date :March 2011 Read :1062

Click below to download : Sonnet 4: Slave Trade ('tis Night; The Mercenary Tyrants Sleep) (Format : PDF)

Sonnet 4: Slave Trade ('tis Night; The Mercenary Tyrants Sleep)

'Tis night; the mercenary tyrants sleep
As undisturb'd as Justice! but no more
The wretched Slave, as on his native shore,
Rests on his reedy couch: he wakes to weep!
Tho' thro' the toil and anguish of the day
No tear escap'd him, not one suffering groan
Beneath the twisted thong, he weeps alone
In bitterness; thinking that far away
Tho' the gay negroes join the midnight song,
Tho' merriment resounds on Niger's shore,
She whom he loves far from the chearful throng
Stands sad, and gazes from her lowly door
With dim grown eye, silent and woe-begone,
And weeps for him who will return no more.





(The end)
Robert Southey's poem: Sonnet 4: Slave Trade ('tis Night; The Mercenary Tyrants Sleep)

If you like this book please share to your friends :
NEXT BOOKS

Sonnet 5: Slave Trade (did Then The Bold Slave Rear At Last The Sword) Sonnet 5: Slave Trade (did Then The Bold Slave Rear At Last The Sword)

Sonnet 5: Slave Trade (did Then The Bold Slave Rear At Last The Sword)
Did then the bold Slave rear at last the Sword Of Vengeance? drench'd he deep its thirsty bladeIn the cold bosom of his tyrant lord? Oh! who shall blame him? thro' the midnight shadeStill o'er his tortur'd memory rush'd the thought Of every past delight; his native grove, Friendship's best joys, and Liberty and Love,All lost for ever! then Remembrance wroughtHis soul to madness; round his restless bed Freedom's pale spectre stalk'd, with a stern smile Pointing the wounds of slavery, the whileShe shook her chains and hung her sullen head:No more on Heaven he
PREVIOUS BOOKS

Sonnet 3: Slave Trade (oh He Is Worn With Toil! The Big Drops Run) Sonnet 3: Slave Trade (oh He Is Worn With Toil! The Big Drops Run)

Sonnet 3: Slave Trade (oh He Is Worn With Toil! The Big Drops Run)
Oh he is worn with toil! the big drops run Down his dark cheek; hold--hold thy merciless hand, Pale tyrant! for beneath thy hard commandO'erwearied Nature sinks. The scorching Sun,As pityless as proud Prosperity, Darts on him his full beams; gasping he lies Arraigning with his looks the patient skies,While that inhuman trader lifts on high The mangling scourge. Oh ye who at your ease Sip the blood-sweeten'd beverage! thoughts like theseHaply ye scorn: I thank thee Gracious God! That I do feel upon my cheek the glowOf indignation, when beneath the rod
NEXT 10 BOOKS | PREVIOUS 10 BOOKS | RANDOM 10 BOOKS
LEAVE A COMMENT