* * *
High in the air exposed the slave is hung, To all the birds of heaven, their living food! He groans not, though awaked by that fierce sun New torturers live to drink their parent blood; He groans not, though the gorging vulture tear The quivering fiber. Hither look, O ye Who tore this man from peace and liberty! Look hither, ye who weigh with politic care The gain against the guilt! Beyond the grave There is another world: bear ye in mind, Ere your decree proclaims to all mankind The gain is worth the guilt, that there the Slave, Before the Eternal, "thunder-tongued shall plead Against the deep damnation of your deed.
Robert Southey’s other poems:
- Поход на Москву • The March to Moscow
- To the Chapel Bell
- The Well of St. Keyne
- The Soldier’s Wife
- The Race Of Banquo
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