Nor yet to dung-heaps thou resign the canes, Which or the sun hath burnt, or rats have gnawed. These, to small junks reduced, and in huge casks Steeped, where no cool winds blow, do thou fer

ment:

Then, when, from his entanglements enlarged,
Th' evasive spirit mounts, by Vulcan's aid
(Nor Amphitryte will her help deny),

Do thou through all his winding ways pursue
The runaway; till, in thy sparkling bowl
Confined, he dances, more a friend to life
And joy than that nepenthe, famed of yore,
Which Polydamia, Thone's imperial queen,
Taught Jove-born Helen on the banks of Nile.

CARE OF THE WIND-MILLS; THEIR UNCERTAINTY

As on old ocean, when the wind blows high, The cautious mariner contracts his sail,

So here, when squally bursts the speeding gale, If thou from ruin wouldst thy points preserve, Less bellying canvas to the storm oppose.

Yet the faint breeze oft flags on listless wings, Nor tremulates the coco's airiest arch, While the red sun darts deluges of fire, And soon (if on the gale thy crop depend) Will all thy hopes of opulence defeat.

APOSTROPHE TO THE SUN. ANTIGUA DROUGHTS.

'Informer of the planetary train!' Source undiminished of all-cheering light, Of roseate beauty, and heart-gladdening joy! Fountain of Being, on whose water broods The organic spirit, principle of life! Lord of the Seasons! who in courtly pomp Lackey thy presence, and, with glad despatch, Pour, at thy bidding, o'er the land and sea! Parent of vegetation! whose fond grasp The sugar-cane displays; and whose green car Soft-stealing dews, with liquid pearls adorned, Fat-fostering rains, and buxom genial airs, Attend triumphant! Why, ah, why so oft, Why hath Antigua, sweetly-social isle,

Nurse of each art, where science yet finds friends Amid this waste of waters, wept thy rage?

DESCRIPTION OF THE CATTLE-MILL FOR GRINDING THE CANE.

Then trust not, planter, to the unsteady gale; But in Tobago's endless forests fell

The tall, tough hickory, or calaba.

that pest

Of this be forced two pillars in the ground,
Four paces distant, and two cubits high:
Other two pillars raise; the wood the same,
Of equal size and height. The calaba,
Than steel more durable, contemns the rain,
And sun's intensest beam; the worm,
Of mariners, which winds its fatal way
Through heart of British oak, reluctant leaves
The closer calaba. — By transverse beams
Secure the whole; and in the pillared frame
Sink, artist, the vast bridge-tree's mortised form
Of ponderous hickory; hickory time defies :

To this be nailed three polished iron plates; Whereon three steel Capouces turn with ease, Of three long rollers, twice nine inches round, With iron cased, and jagged with many a cog. The central cylinder exceeds the rest

In portly size, thence aptly Captain named.
To this be riveted th' extended sweeps ;
And harness to each sweep two seasoned mules :
They, pacing round, give motion to the whole.
The close-braced cylinders with ease revolve
On their greased axle, and with ease reduce
To trash the canes thy negroes throw between.
Fast flows the liquor through the lead-lined spouts;
And, depurated by opposing wires,

In the receiver floats a limpid stream.
So twice five casks, with muscovado filled,
Shall from thy stanchions drip, ere day's bright god
Hath in the Atlantic six times cooled his wheels.

CARE OF MULES.

Wouldst thou against calamity provide? Let a well-shingled roof, from Raleigh's land, Defend thy stock from noon's inclement blaze, And from night-dews; for night no respite knows. Nor, when their destined labor is performed, Be thou ashamed to lead the panting mules (The Muse, soft parent of each social grace, With eyes of love God's whole creation views) To the warm pen; where copious forage strewed, And strenuous rubbing, renovate their strength. So, fewer ails (alas, how prone to ails!)

Their days shall shorten; ah, too short at best!

DISEASES OF MULES.

For not even then, my friend, art thou secure From fortune; spite of all thy steady care, What ills, that laugh to scorn Machaon's art, Await thy cattle! farcy's tabid form, Joint-racking spasms, and colic's pungent pang, Need the Muse tell? which, in one luckless moon, Thy sheds dispeople; when perhaps thy groves, To full perfection shot, by day, by night, Indesinent demand their vigorous toil.

WATER-MILLS LEAST PRECARIOUS FOR GRINDING CANE.

Then happiest he for whom the Naiads pour, From rocky urns, the never-ceasing stream, To turn his rollers with unbought despatch. In Karukera's rich, well-watered isle, In Matanina, boast of Albion's arms, The brawling Naiads for the planters toil, Howe'er unworthy; and, through solemn scenes, Romantic, cool, with rock and woods between, Enchant the senses! but among thy swains, Sweet Liamuiga, who such bliss can boast?

LORD ROMNEY EULOGIZED.

Yes, Romney, thou mayst boast; of British heart, Of courtly manners, joined to ancient worth: Friend to thy Britain's every blood-earned right, From tyrants wrung, the many or the few.

By wealth, by titles, by ambition's lure,
Not to be tempted from fair honor's path:
While others, falsely flattering their prince,
Bold disapproved, or by oblique surmise
Their terror hinted, of the people armed;
Indignant, in the senate, he uprose,
And, with the well-urged energy of zeal,
Their specious, subtle sophistry disproved;
The importance, the necessity, displayed
Of civil armies, Freedom's surest guard!
Nor in the senate didst thou only win
The palm of eloquence, securely bold;

But rearedst thy banners, fluttering in the wind :
Kent, from each hamlet, poured her marshalled
To hurl defiance on the threatening Gaul. [swains,

SUGAR-BOILING.

Thy foaming coppers well with fuel feed ;
For a clear, strong, continued fire improves
Thy muscovado's color, and its grain. —
Yet vehement heat, protracted, will consume
Thy vessels, whether from the martial mine,
Or from thine ore, bright Venus, they are drawn ;
Or hammer, or hot fusion, give them form.

If prudence guides thee, then, thy stores shall hold
Of well-sized vessels a complete supply:
For every hour thy boilers cease to skim
(Now Cancer reddens with the solar ray)
Defeats thy honest purposes of gain.

For grain and color wouldst thou win, my friend,
At every curious mart, the constant palm?
O'er all thy works let cleanliness preside,
Child of frugality; and as the scum

Thick mantles o'er the boiling wave, do thou
The scum that mantles carefully remove.

From bloating dropsy, from pulmonic ails,
Wouldst thou defend thy boilers (prime of slaves),
For days, for nights, for weeks, for months, involved
In the warm vapor's all-relaxing steam?
Thy boiling house be lofty: all atop
Open, and pervious to the tropic breeze;
Whose cool perflation, wooed through many a
Dispels the steam, and gives the lungs to play.

[grate,

VEGETABLE CHEMISTRY; ELEMENTS TO BE GOT RID OF IN
SUGAR-MAKING.

The skilled in chemia, boast of modern arts,
Know, from experiment, the sire of truth,
In many a plant that oil, and acid juice,

And ropy mucilage, by nature live:
These, envious, stop the much-desired embrace
Of the essential salts, though coction bid
The aqueous particles to mount in air.

'Mong salts essential, sugar wins the palm,
For taste, for color, and for various use:
And, in the nectar of the yellowest cane,
Much acor, oil, and mucilage, abound:
But in the less mature, from mountain land,
These harsh intruders so redundant float,
Muster so strong, as scarce to be subdued.

BRISTOL QUARRIES; AVON RIVER; SHAKSPEARE; PHILIPS.

Nor to thy waters only trust for fame,' Bristol; nor to thy beamy diamonds trust: Though these oft deck Britannia's lovely fair, And those oft save the guardians of her realm. Thy marble quarries claim the voice of praise, Which rich incrusts thy Avon banks, sweet banks ! Though not to you young Shakspeare, Fancy's child, All rudely warbled his first woodland notes; Though not your caves, while terror stalked around, Saw him essay to clutch the ideal sword, With drops of blood distained yet, lovely banks, On you reclined, another tuned his pipe ; Whom all the Muses emulously love, And in whose strains your praises shall endure, While to Sabrina speeds your healing stream.

BRISTOL LIME BEST FOR GRANULATING; TESTS OF GOOD MUSCOVADO.

Bristol, without thy marble, by the flame Calcined to whiteness, vain the stately reed Would swell with juice mellifluent; heat would soon The strongest, best-hung furnaces consume. Without its aid, the cool-imprisoned stream, Seldom allowed to view the face of day, Though late it roamed a denizen of air, Would steal from its involuntary bounds, And, by sly windings, set itself at large. But chief thy lime the experienced boiler loves, Nor loves ill-founded; when no other art Can bribe to union the coy floating salts, A proper portion of this precious dust, Cast in the wave (so showers alone of gold Could win fair Danae to the god's embrace), With nectared muscovado soon will charge

Thy shelving coolers, which, severely pressed Between the fingers, not resolves; and which Rings in the cask; and or a light-brown hue, Or thine, more precious silvery-gray, assumes.

BERMUDA LIME NEXT IN VALUE; WALLER.

The famed Bermuda's ever-healthy islesMore famed by gentle Waller's deathless strains, Than for their cedars, which, insulting, fly O'er the wide ocean- -'mid their rocks contain A stone, which, when calcined (experience says), Is only second to Sabrina's lime.

SLAVES SHOULD HAVE FREE USE OF THE SYRUP.

While flows the juice mellifluent from the cane, Grudge not, my friend, to let thy slaves, each morn, But chief the sick and young at setting day, Themselves regale with oft-repeated draughts Of tepid nectar; so shall health and strength Confirm thy Negroes, and make labor light.

JOLLITY OF THE SLAVES; DRY TIME BEST FOR BOILING.

While flame thy chimneys, while thy coppers foam,

How blithe, how jocund, the plantation smiles!
By day, by night, resounds the choral song
Of glad barbarity; serene, the sun
Shines not intensely hot; the trade-wind blows:
How sweet, how silken, is its noontide breath!
While to far climes the fell destroyer, Death,
Wings his dark flight. Then seldom pray for rain:
Rather for cloudless days thy prayers prefer;
For, if the skies too frequently relent,
Crude flows the cane-juice, and will long elude
The boiler's wariest skill thy canes will spring
To an unthrifty loftiness; or, weighed
Down by their load (Ambition's curse), decay.

STRIKING THE SYRUP.

Encourage thou thy boilers; much depends On their skilled efforts. If too soon they strike, Ere all the watery particles have fled, Or lime sufficient granulate the juice, In vain the thickening liquor is effused; An heterogeneous, an uncertain mass, And never in thy coolers to condense.

BOIL NOT TOO MUCH; MELASSES; WINE. Or, planter, if the coction they prolong Beyond its stated time, the viscous wave Will in huge flinty masses crystallize, Which forceful fingers scarce can crumble down, And which with its melasses ne'er will part: Yet this, fast-dripping in nectareous drops, Not only betters what remains, but, when With art fermented, yields a noble wine, Than which nor Gallia, nor the Indian clime, Where rolls the Ganges, can a nobler show. So misers in their coffers lock that gold, Which, if allowed at liberty to roam, Would better them, and benefit mankind.

HOW TO PREVENT TOO LOOSE GRAIN.

In the last coppers when the embrowning wave With sudden fury swells, some grease immixed The foaming tumult sudden will compose, And force to union the divided grain. So when two swarms in airy battle join, The winged heroes heap the bloody field; Until some dust, thrown upward in the sky, Quell the wild conflict, and sweet peace restore.

A FLING AT THE FRENCH.

False Gallia's sons, that hoe the ocean-isles,
Mix with their sugar loads of worthless sand,
Fraudful, their weight of sugar to increase.
Far be such guile from Britain's honest swains!
Such arts a while the unwary may surprise,
And benefit the impostor; but, ere long,
The skilful buyer will the fraud detect,
And with abhorrence reprobate the name.

THE TRICKS OF AVARICE IN SUGARS.

Fortune had crowned Avaro's younger years With a large tract of land, on which the cane Delighted grew, nor asked the toil of art. The sugar-bakers deemed themselves secure Of mighty profit, could they buy his cades; For whiteness, hardness, to the leeward crop, His muscovado gave. But, not content With this preeminence of honest gain, He baser sugars started in his casks; His own, by mixing sordid things, debased. One year the fraud succeeded; wealth immense Flowed in upon him, and he blest his wiles: The next, the brokers spurned th' adulterate mass, Both on the Avon and the banks of Thame.

USE OF SKIMMINGS; FOOD FOR SWINE AND MULES.

[feed

Be thrifty, planter, - even thy skimmings save:
For, planter, know, the refuse of the cane
Serves needful purposes. Are barbecues
The cates thou lov'st? What like rich skimmings
The grunting, bristly kind? Your laboring mules
They soon invigorate give old Bayard these,
Untired he trudges in his destined round,

Nor need the driver crack his horrid lash.
Yet with small quantities indulge the steed,
Whom skimmings ne'er have fattened; else, too
fond,

So gluttons use, he'll eat intemperate meals,
And, staggering, fall the prey of ravening sharks.

THE PRAISE OF RUM.

But say, ye boon companions, in what strains, What grateful strains, shall I record the praise Of their best produce, heart-recruiting rum? 1 Thrice wholesome spirit! well-matured with age, Thrice grateful to the palate! when, with thirst, With heat, with labor, and wan care oppressed,

1 This liquor has become such a curse that few good men now look on it with favor, smell it without nausea, or hear its name without disgust. ED.

I quaff thy bowl, where fruit my hands have culled,
Round, golden fruit: where water from the spring,
Which dripping coolness spreads her umbrage
round,

With hardest, whitest sugar thrice refined;
Dilates my soul with genuine joy; low care

I spurn indignant; toil a pleasure seems, [bounds,
For not Marne's flowery banks, nor Tille's green
Where Ceres with the god of vintage reigns,
In happiest union; not Vigornian hills,
Pomona's loved abode, afford to man
Goblets more prized, or laudable of taste,

To slake parched thirst, and mitigate the clime.

REMINISCENCES OF FRIENDS; JOHNSON, PERCY, WHITE, AND MRS. LENNOX, CELEBRATED.

Yet, 'mid this blest ebriety, some tears
For friends I left in Albion's distant isle,
For Johnson, Percy, White, escape mine eyes :
For her, fair authoress, whom first Calpe's rocks
A sportive infant saw; and whose green years
True genius blest with her benignest gifts
Of happiest fancy. O, were ye all here,
O, were ye here, with him, my Pæon's son !
Long known, of worth approved, thrice candid soul !
How would your converse charm the lonely hour!
Your converse, where mild wisdom tempers mirth;
And charity, the petulance of wit;

How would your converse polish my rude lays,
With what new, noble images adorn!
Then should I scarce regret the banks of Thames,
All as we sat beneath that sand-box shade;
Whence the delighted eye expatiates wide
O'er the fair landscape, where in loveliest forms
Green cultivation hath arrayed the land.

See there what mills, like giants, raise their arms, To quell the speeding gale! what smoke ascends From every boiling house! what structures rise, Neat though not lofty, pervious to the breeze, With galleries, porches, or piazzas, graced ! Nor not delightful are those red-built huts, On yonder hill, that front the rising sun; With plantains, with bananas, bosomed deep, That flutter in the wind; where frolic goats Butt the young negroes, while their swarthy sires With ardent gladness wield the bill; and hark, The crop is finished, how they rend the sky!

SEA-VIEW IN THE WEST INDIES.

Nor beauteous only shows the cultured soil, From this cool station. No less charms the eye That wild, interminable waste of waves: While on the horizon's furthest verge are seen Islands of different shape, and different size; While sail-clad ships, with their sweet produce fraught,

Swell on the straining sight; while near yon rock, On which ten thousand wings with ceaseless clang

Their eyries build, a water-spout descends,
And shakes mid ocean; and while there below
That town, embowered in the different shade
Of tamarinds, panspans, and papaws, o'er which
A double Iris throws her painted arch,
Shows commerce toiling in each crowded street,
And each thronged street with limpid currents laved.

MUSIC OF NATURE IN THE WEST INDIES.

What though no bird of song here charms the
With her wild minstrelsy, far, far beyond [sense
The unnatural quavers of Hesperian throats!
Though the chaste poet of the vernal woods,
That shuns rude folly's din, delight not here
The listening eve; and though no herald-lark
Here leave his couch, high-towering to descry
The approach of dawn, and hail her with his song:
Yet not unmusical the tinkling lapse

Of yon cool argent rill, which Phoebus gilds
With his first orient rays; yet musical
Those buxom airs that through the plantains play,
And tear with wantonness their leafy scrolls;
Yet not unmusical the waves' hoarse sound,
That dashes, sullen, on the distant shore;
Yet musical those little insects' hum,
That hover round us, and to Reason's ear
Deep moral truths convey; while every beam
Flings on them transient tints, which vary when
They wave their purple plumes; yet musical
The love-lorn cooing of the mountain-dove,
That woos to pleasing thoughtfulness the soul;
But chief the breeze, that murmurs through yon
Enchants the ear with tunable delight. [canes,

THE CREOLES URGED TO LIVE ON THEIR PLANTATIONS.

While such fair scenes adorn these blissful isles, Why will their sons, ungrateful, roam abroad? Why spend their opulence in other climes?

Say, is preeminence your partial aim? Distinction courts you here; the senate calls. Here crouching slaves attendant wait your nod: While there, unnoted, but for folly's garb, For folly's jargon, your dull hours ye pass, Eclipsed by titles and superior wealth.

MARTIAL GLORY AND PATRIOTISM SHOULD PREVENT ABSENTEEISM.

Does martial ardor fire your generous veins ?

Fly to your native isles: Bellona there
Hath long time reared her bloody flag; these isles
Your strenuous arms demand; for ye are brave!
No longer to the lute and tabor's sound
Weave antic measures. O, could my weak song-
O, could my song, like his, heaven-favored bard,
Who led desponding Sparta's oft-beat hosts
To victory, to glory-fire your souls
With English ardor! for now England's swains
(The man of Norfolk, swains of England, thank),
All emulous, to Freedom's standard fly,
And drive invasion from their native shore:
How would my soul exult with conscious pride,
Nor grudge those wreaths Tyrtæus gained of yore!

LUXURIES OF THE WEST INDIES; PINE-APPLE, TURTLE, JEWFISH, CRABS, MUTTON, WINES, CANE.

Or, are ye fond of rich luxurious cates?
Can aught in Europe emulate the pine,
Or fruit forbidden, native of your isles?
Sons of Apicius, say, can Europe's seas,
Can aught the edible creation yields,
Compare with turtle, boast of land and wave?
Can Europe's seas, in all their finny realms,
Aught so delicious as the Jew-fish show?
Tell me what viands, land or streams produce,
The large, black, female moulting crab excel !
A richer flavor not wild Cambria's hills, [spread,
Nor Scotia's rocks, with heath and thyme o'er-
Give to their flocks, than, lone Barduda, you,
Than you, Anguilla, to your sheep impart.
Even Britain's vintage here, improved, we quaff;
Even Lusitanian, even Hesperian wines.

Those from the Rhine's imperial banks (poor Rhine!
How have thy banks been dyed with brother-blood!
Unnatural warfare !) strength and flavor gain
In this delicious clime. Besides, the cane,
Wafted to every quarter of the globe,
Makes the vast produce of the world your own.

ARGUMENTS AGAINST ABSENTEEISM DRAWN FROM THE LOVE OF
NATURE, GRANDEUR OF NATURE IN THE WEST INDIES.

Or, rather, doth the love of nature charm,
Its mighty love your chief attention claim,
Leave Europe; there, through all her coyest ways,
Her secret mazes, nature is pursued ;

But here, with savage loneliness, she reigns
On yonder peak, whence giddy fancy looks,
Affrighted, on the laboring main below.
Heavens! what stupendous, what unnumbered trees,
'Stage above stage, in various verdure drest,'
Unprofitable shag its airy cliffs !

[bloom,

Heavens! what new shrubs, what herbs, with useless
Adorn its channelled sides; and, in its caves,
What sulphurs, ores, what earth and stones, abound!
There let Philosophy conduct thy steps,

For naught is useless made:' with candid search,
Examine all the properties of things;
Immense discoveries soon will crown your toil,
Your time will soon repay.

THE AUTHOR'S ASPIRATIONS TO be useful.
Ah! when will cares,
The cares of fortune, less my minutes claim?
Then, with what joy, what energy of soul,
Will I not climb yon mountain's airiest brow!
The dawn, the burning noon, the setting sun,
The midnight hour, shall hear my constant vows
To Nature, see me prostrate at her shrine !
And, O, if haply I may aught invent
Of use to mortal man, life to prolong,
To soften, or adorn, what genuine joy,
What exultation of supreme delight,

Will swell my raptured bosom! Then, when death
Shall call me hence, I'll unrepining go;
Nor envy conquerors their storied tombs,
Though not a stone point out my humble grave.

BOOK IV.

ARGUMENT.

Invocation to the Genius of Africa. Address. Negroes when bought should be young. The Congo negroes are fitter for the house and trades than for the field. The Gold-coast, but especially the Papaw-negroes, make the best field-negroes: but even these, if advanced in years, should not be purchased. The marks of a sound negro at a negro sale. Where the men do nothing but hunt, fish, or fight, and all field drudgery is left to the women, these are to be preferred to their husbands. The Minnahs make good tradesmen, but addicted to suicide. The Mundingos, in particular, subject to worms; and the Congos to dropsical disorders. How salt-water, or new negroes, should be seasoned. Some negroes eat dirt. Negroes should be habituated by gentle degrees to field labor. This labor, when compared to that in lead-mines, or of those who work in the gold and silver mines in South America, is not only less toilsome, but far more healthy. Negroes should always be treated with humanity. Praise of freedom. Of the dracunculus, or dragon-worm. Or chigres. Of the yaws. Might not this disease be imparted by inoculation? Of worms, and their multiform appearance. Praise of commerce. Of the imaginary

disorders of negroes, especially those caused by their conjurers, or Obiamen The composition and supposed virtues of a magic phial. Field-negroes should not begin to work before six in the morning, and should leave off between eleven and twelve: and, beginning again at two, should finish before sunset. Of the weekly allowance of negroes. The young, the old, the sickly, and even the lazy, must have their victuals prepared for them. Of negro ground, and its various productions. To be fenced in, and watched. Of an American garden. Of the situation of negro-huts. How best defended from fire. The great negro-dance described. Drumming and intoxicating spirits not to be allowed. Negroes should be made to marry in their master's plantation. Inconveniences arising from the contrary practice. Negroes to be clothed once a year, and before Christmas. Praise of Louis XIV. for the Code Noir. A body of laws of this kind recommended to the English sugar colonies. Praise of the river Thames. A moonlight landscape and vision.

THE NEGRO RACE; ITS VARIETIES, AND THEIR QUALITIES AND
TREATMENT. AFRICA APOSTROPHIZED.

Genius of Afric! whether thou bestrid'st
The castled elephant; or at the source
(While howls the desert fearfully around)
Of thine own Niger sadly thou reclin'st
Thy temples shaded by the tremulous palm,
Or quick papaw, whose top is necklaced round
With numerous rows of parti-colored fruit :
Or hear'st thou rather from the rocky banks
Of Rio Grande, or black Senaga,

Where dauntless thou the headlong torrent brav'st
In search of gold, to breed thy woolly locks,
Or with bright ringlets ornament thine ears,
Thine arms, and ankles: 0, attend my song!
A muse that pities thy distressful state,
Who sees with grief thy sons in fetters bound,
Who wishes freedom to the race of man,
Thy nod assenting craves dread Genius, come !
Yet vain thy presence, vain thy favoring nod,
Unless once more the muses, that erewhile
Upheld me fainting in my past career
Through Caribbe's cane-isles, kindly condescend
To guide my footsteps through parched Libya's
wilds,

And bind my sunburnt brow with other bays
Than ever decked the Sylvan bard before.

DEDICATION TO GENERAL MELVIL.

Say, will my Melvil from the public care Withdraw one moment to the muses shrine?