Though cold as winter, gloomy as the grave,
Stone walls a Prisoner make, but not a Slave.
Shall man assume a property in man?
Lay on the moral will a withering ban?
Shame that our laws at distance should protect
Enormities, which they at home reject!
“Slaves cannot breathe in England”—a proud boast!
And yet a mockery! if from coast to coast,
Though fettered slave be none, her floors and soil
Groan underneath a weight of slavish toil,