THE
AFRICAN
PRINCE
,
NOW
IN
ENGLAND
,
TO
ZARA
AT
HIS
FATHER'S
COURT
,
WRITTEN
IN
THE
YEAR
MDCCXLIX
.
BY
DR.
DODD
.
PRINCES
,
my
fair
,
unfortunately
great
,
Born
to
the
pompous
vassalage
of
state
,
Whene'er
the
public
calls
,
are
doom'd
to
sly
Domestic
bliss
,
and
break
the
private
tie
.
Fame
pays
with
empty
breath
the
toils
they
bear
,
And
love's
soft
joys
are
chang'd
for
glorious
care
;
Yet
conscious
virtue
,
in
the
silent
hour
,
Rewards
the
hero
with
a
noble
dower
.
For
this
alone
I
dar'd
the
roaring
sea
,
Yet
more
,
for
this
I
dar'd
to
part
with
thee
.
But
while
my
bosom
feels
the
nobler
flame
,
Still
unreprov'd
,
it
owns
thy
gentler
claim
.
Tho'
virtue's
awful
form
my
soul
approves
,
'Tis
thine
,
thine
only
,
Zara
,
that
it
loves
.
A
private
lot
had
made
the
claim
but
one
,
The
prince
alone
must
love
,
for
virtue
,
shun
.
Ah
!
why
distinguish'd
from
the
happier
crowd
,
To
me
the
bliss
of
millions
disallow'd
?
Why
was
I
singled
for
imperial
sway
,
Since
love
and
duty
point
a
different
way
?
Fix'd
the
dread
voyage
,
and
the
day
decreed
,
When
,
duty's
victim
,
love
was
doom'd
to
bleed
,
Too
well
my
memory
can
these
scenes
renew
,
We
met
to
sigh
,
to
weep
our
last
adieu
.
That
conscious
palm
,
beneath
whose
towering
shade
So
oft
our
vows
of
mutual
love
were
made
;
Where
hope
so
oft
anticipated
joy
,
And
plann'd
of
future
years
the
best
employ
;
That
palm
was
witness
to
the
tears
we
shed
,
When
that
fond
hope
,
and
all
those
joys
were
fled
.
Thy
trembling
lips
,
with
trembling
lips
,
I
prest
,
And
held
thee
panting
to
my
panting
breast
.
Our
sorrow
,
grown
too
mighty
to
sustain
,
Now
snatch'd
us
,
fainting
,
from
the
sense
of
pain
.
Together
sinking
in
the
trance
divine
,
I
caught
thy
fleeting
soul
,
and
gave
thee
mine
!
O
!
blest
oblivion
of
tormenting
care
!
O
!
why
recall'd
to
life
and
to
despair
?
The
dreadful
summons
came
,
to
part
—
and
why
?
Why
not
the
kinder
summons
but
to
die
?
To
die
together
were
to
part
no
more
,
To
land
in
safety
on
some
peaceful
shore
,
Where
love's
the
business
of
immortal
life
,
And
happy
spirits
only
guess
at
strife
.
"
If
in
some
distant
land
my
prince
should
find
"
Some
nymph
more
fair
,
you
cried
,
as
Zara
kind
"
—
Mysterious
doubt
!
which
could
at
once
impart
Relief
to
mine
,
and
anguish
to
thy
heart
.
Still
let
me
triumph
in
the
fear
exprest
,
The
voice
of
love
that
whisper'd
in
thy
breast
;
Nor
call
me
cruel
,
for
my
truth
shall
prove
'Twas
but
the
vain
anxiety
of
love
.
Torn
from
thy
fond
embrace
,
the
strand
I
gain
,
Where
mourning
friends
inflict
superfluous
pain
;
My
father
there
his
struggling
sighs
supprest
,
And
in
dumb
anguish
clasp'd
me
to
his
breast
,
Then
sought
,
conceal'd
the
conflict
of
his
mind
,
To
give
the
sortitude
he
could
not
find
;
Each
life-taught
precept
kindly
he
renew'd
,
"
Thy
country's
good
,
said
he
,
be
still
pursued
!
"
If
,
when
the
gracious
gods
my
son
restore
,
"
These
eyes
shall
sleep
in
death
,
to
wake
no
more
;
"
If
then
these
limbs
,
that
now
in
age
decay
,
"
Shall
mouldering
mix
with
earth's
parental
clay
;
"
Round
my
green
tomb
perform
the
sacred
rite
,
"
Assume
my
throne
,
and
let
thy
yoke
be
light
;
"
From
lands
of
freedom
glorious
precepts
bring
,
"
And
reign
at
once
a
father
and
a
king
.
"
How
vainly
proud
,
the
arrogantly
great
Presume
to
boast
a
monarch's
godlike
state
!
Subject
alike
,
the
peasant
and
the
king
,
To
life's
dark
ills
,
and
care's
corroding
sting
.
From
guilt
and
fraud
,
that
strikes
in
silence
sure
,
No
shield
can
guard
us
,
and
no
arms
secure
.
By
these
,
my
fair
,
subdued
,
thy
prince
was
lost
,
A
naked
captive
on
a
barbarous
coast
.
Nurtur'd
in
ease
,
a
thousand
servants
round
,
My
wants
prevented
,
and
my
wishes
crown'd
,
No
painful
labours
stretch'd
the
tedious
day
,
On
downy
feet
my
moments
danc'd
away
.
Where-e'er
I
look'd
,
officious
courtiers
bow'd
,
Where-e'er
I
pass'd
,
a
shouting
people
crowd
;
No
fears
intruded
on
the
joys
I
knew
,
Each
man
my
friend
,
my
lovely
mistress
you
.
What
dreadful
change
!
abandon'd
and
alone
,
The
shouted
prince
is
now
a
slave
unknown
;
To
watch
his
eye
,
no
bending
courtiers
wait
,
No
hailing
crowds
proclaim
his
regal
state
;
A
slave
condemn'd
,
with
unrewarded
toil
,
To
turn
,
from
morn
to
eve
,
a
burning
soil
.
Fainting
beneath
the
sun's
meridian
heat
,
Rouz'd
by
the
scourge
,
the
taunting
jest
I
meet
:
"
Thanks
to
thy
friends
,
they
cry
,
whose
care
recalls
"
A
prince
to
life
,
in
whom
a
nation
falls
!
"
Unwholesome
scraps
,
my
strength
but
half
sustain'd
,
From
corners
glean'd
,
and
ev'n
by
dogs
disdain'd
;
At
night
I
mingled
with
a
wretched
crew
,
Who
by
long
use
with
woe
familiar
grew
;
Of
manners
brutish
,
merciless
,
and
rude
,
They
mock'd
my
sufferings
,
and
my
pangs
renew'd
;
In
groans
,
not
sleep
,
I
pass'd
the
weary
night
,
And
rose
to
labour
with
the
morning
light
.
Yet
,
thus
of
dignity
and
ease
beguil'd
,
Thus
scorn'd
and
scourg'd
,
insulted
and
revil'd
,
If
Heaven
with
thee
my
faithful
arms
had
blest
,
And
fill'd
with
love
my
intervals
of
rest
,
Short
tho'
they
were
,
my
soul
had
never
known
One
secret
wish
to
glitter
on
a
throne
;
The
toilsome
day
had
heard
no
sigh
of
mine
,
Nor
stripes
,
nor
scorn
,
had
urg'd
me
to
repine
.
A
monarch
,
still
beyond
a
monarch
blest
,
Thy
love
my
diadem
,
my
throne
thy
breast
;
My
courtiers
,
watchful
of
my
looks
,
thy
eyes
,
Should
shine
,
persuade
,
and
flatter
,
and
advise
;
Thy
voice
my
music
,
and
thy
arms
should
be
—
Ah
!
not
the
prison
of
a
slave
in
me
!
Could
I
with
infamy
content
remain
,
And
wish
thy
lovely
form
to
share
my
chain
?
Could
this
bring
ease
?
forgive
th'
unworthy
thought
,
And
let
the
love
that
sinn'd
atone
the
fault
.
Could
I
,
a
slave
,
and
hopeless
to
be
free
,
Crawl
,
tamely
recent
from
the
scourge
,
to
thee
?
Thy
blooming
beauties
could
these
arms
embrace
?
My
gullty
joys
enslave
an
infant
race
?
No
:
rather
blast
me
lightnings
,
whirlwind
tear
,
And
drive
these
limbs
in
atoms
thro'
the
air
;
Rather
than
this
,
O
!
curse
me
still
with
life
,
And
let
my
Zara
smile
a
rival's
wife
:
Be
mine
alone
th'
accumulated
woe
,
Nor
let
me
propagate
my
curse
below
.
But
,
from
this
dreadful
scene
,
with
joy
I
turn
;
To
trust
in
Heaven
,
of
me
let
Zara
learn
.
The
wretch
,
the
sordid
hypocrite
,
who
sold
His
charge
,
an
unsuspecting
prince
,
for
gold
,
That
Justice
mark'd
,
whose
eyes
can
never
sleep
,
And
death
,
commission'd
,
smote
him
on
the
deep
.
The
generous
crew
their
port
in
safety
gain
,
And
tell
my
mournful
tale
,
nor
tell
in
vain
;
The
king
,
with
horror
of
th'
atrocious
deed
,
In
haste
commanded
,
and
the
slave
was
freed
.
No
more
Britannia's
cheek
,
the
blush
of
shame
,
Burns
for
my
wrongs
,
her
king
restores
her
fame
:
Propitious
gales
,
to
Freedom's
happy
shore
Waft
me
triumphant
,
and
the
prince
restore
;
Whate'er
is
great
and
gay
around
me
shine
,
And
all
the
splendor
of
a
court
is
mine
.
Here
knowledge
too
,
by
piety
refin'd
,
Sheds
a
blest
radiance
o'er
my
brightening
mind
;
From
earth
I
travel
upward
to
the
sky
,
I
learn
to
live
,
to
reign
,
yet
more
,
to
die
.
O
!
I
have
tales
to
tell
,
of
love
divine
—
Such
blissful
tidings
!
they
shall
soon
be
thine
.
I
long
to
tell
thee
,
what
,
amaz'd
,
I
see
,
What
habits
,
buildings
,
trades
,
and
polity
!
How
art
and
nature
vie
to
entertain
In
public
shows
,
and
mix
delight
with
pain
.
O
!
Zara
He
alludes
to
the
Play
of
Oroonoko
,
at
which
he
was
present
,
and
so
affected
as
to
be
unable
to
continue
,
during
its
performance
,
in
the
house
.
,
here
,
a
story
like
my
own
,
With
mimic
skill
,
in
borrow'd
names
,
was
shown
;
An
Indian
chief
,
like
me
,
by
fraud
betray'd
,
And
partner
in
his
woes
an
Indian
maid
.
I
can't
recal
the
scenes
,
'tis
pain
too
great
,
And
,
if
recall'd
,
should
shudder
to
relate
.
To
write
the
wonders
here
,
I
strive
in
vain
;
Each
word
would
ask
a
thousand
to
explain
.
The
time
shall
come
,
O
!
speed
the
lingering
hour
!
When
Zara's
charms
shall
lend
description
power
;
When
plac'd
beside
thee
in
the
cool
alcove
,
Or
thro'
the
green
Savannahs
as
we
rove
,
The
frequent
kiss
shall
interrupt
the
tale
,
And
looks
shall
speak
my
sense
,
tho'
language
fail
.
Then
shall
the
prodigies
,
that
round
me
rise
,
Fill
thy
dear
bosom
with
a
sweet
surprize
;
Then
all
my
knowledge
to
thy
faithful
heart
,
With
danger
gain'd
,
securely
I'll
impart
.
Methinks
I
see
thy
changing
looks
express
Th'
alternate
sense
of
pleasure
and
distress
;
As
all
the
windings
of
my
fate
I
trace
,
And
wing
thy
fancy
swift
from
place
to
place
.
Yet
where
,
alas
!
has
flattering
thoughts
convey'd
The
ravish'd
lover
with
his
darling
maid
?
Between
us
,
still
unmeasur'd
oceans
roll
,
Which
hostile
barks
infest
,
and
storms
controul
.
Be
calm
my
bosom
,
since
th'
unmeasur'd
main
,
And
hostile
barks
,
and
storms
,
are
God's
domain
:
He
rules
resistless
,
and
his
power
shall
guide
My
life
in
safety
o'er
the
roaring
tide
;
Shall
bless
the
love
that's
built
on
virtue's
base
,
And
spare
me
to
evangelize
my
race
.
Farewell
!
thy
prince
still
lives
,
and
still
is
free
:
Farewell
!
hope
all
things
,
and
remember
me
.