SEPTEMBER 1, 1802
WE had a female Passenger who came From Calais with us, spotless in array,– A white-robed Negro, like a lady gay, Yet downcast as a woman fearing blame; Meek, destitute, as seemed, of hope or aim She sate, from notice turning not away, But on all proffered intercourse did lay A weight of languid speech, or to the same No sign of answer made by word or face: Yet still her eyes retained their tropic fire, 10 That, burning independent of the mind, Joined with the lustre of her rich attire To mock the Outcast.–O ye Heavens, be kind! And feel, thou Earth, for this afflicted Race!