BRISTOL, thine heart hath throbb'd to glory.—Slaves,
E'en Christian slaves, have shook their chains, and gaz'd
...
INDIFFERENCE come! thy torpid juices shed
On my keen sense: plunge deep my wounded heart,
In thickest apathy, till it congeal,
...
Colin, why this mistake?
Why plead thy foolish love?
My heart shall sooner break
...