Slavery Poem by John Bowring

Can a vast interest veil a monstrous curse
And make it like a virtue? can the din
Whose thunders drown the wail of slavery's sin
O'erwhelm the voice-the sanctity divine
That stamps oppression with the Eternal's curse,
And makes the tyrant hateful to the soul?
Foul is the very fact of servitude,
But the vile pleadings that defend it, worse:
Enough to reap the harvest with the shame,
Enough to bear the burthen and the blame,
But to hold up the fetters of the poor
And prostrate slaves as trophies, and to claim
A Gospel heritage, a Christian name,
O this is more than patience can endure!