And sternly saves them from a billowy tomb,
For woes more exquisite, more dreadful doom!
—Yes! he shall see the offspring, loved in vain,
Pierced with keen famine, die in lingering pain;
Shall see fierce Caffres every garment tear,
From her, the soft, the idolised, the fair;
Shall see those limbs, of nature’s finest mould,
Bare to the sultry sun, or midnight cold,
And, in long wanderings o’er a desert land,
Those tender feet imprint the scorching sand.