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William Cowper - The Morning Dream, A Ballad. To The Tune Of `Tweed Side.`
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`Twas in the glad season of spring,
Asleep at the dawn of the day,
I dream’d what I cannot but sing,
So pleasant it seem`d as I lay.
I dream’d that, on ocean afloat,
Far hence to the westward I sail`d,
While the billows high lifted the boat,
And the fresh-blowing breeze never fail`d.

In the steerage a woman I saw,
Such at least was the form that she wore,
Whose beauty impress`d me with awe,
Ne`er taught me by woman before.
She sat, and a shield at her side
Shed light, like a sun on the waves,
And smiling divinely, she cried--
"I go to make freemen of slaves."

Then, raising her voice to a strain
The sweetest that ear ever heard,
She sung of the slave`s broken chain,
Wherever her glory appear`d.
Some clouds, which had over us hung,
Fled, chased by her melody clear,
And methought while she liberty sung,
`Twas liberty only to hear.

Thus swiftly dividing the flood,
To a slave-cultured island we came,
Where a demon, her enemy, stood--
Oppression his terrible name.
In his hand, as the sign of his sway,
A scourge hung with lashes he bore,
And stood looking out for his prey
From Africa’s sorrowful shore.

But soon as, approaching the land,
That goddess-like woman he view`d,
The scourge he let fall from his hand,
With blood of his subjects imbrued.
I saw him both sicken and die,
And, the moment the monster expir`d,
Heard shouts, that ascended the sky,
From thousands with rapture inspir`d.

Awaking, how could I but muse
At what such a dream should betide?
But soon my ear caught the glad news,
Which served my weak thought for a guide;
That Britannia, renown`d o`er the waves
For the hatred she ever has shown
To the black-sceptred rulers of slaves,
Resolves to have none of her own.
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