Compassion's weeping form she gently draws
From realms where Mercy, interpos'd, suspends
The wrath-wing'd bolts, that awful Justice sends.
Fainting, with such a course of loathsome views,
And length of horrors, the dejected Muse
Spreads her tir'd wings, and with desponding mein,
Weeps o'er the close of the destructive scene;
Sees the dire bark 'midst direr regions steer;
Hears the plung'd anchor tell grim Slavery near;
Beholds the fell Receivers fiercely pour,