As shown me in this paper—dangerous
And morbid prophecies, libels, and schemes
To set my brother chiefs against their king,
In deadly hate the one against the other.
And if Cetewayo views the future just
Of these same English, false and treacherous—
If ‘penny dreadfuls’ be not close mew’d up—
This is his prophecy: That they and G.
Of England’s fame the murderers shall be.
Brim up, thoughts o’er my soul! my time yet comes.