<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529951" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Epistle Of Condolence From A Slave-Lord To A Cotton-Lord</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas ! my dear friend, what a state of affairs !<br>How unjustly we both are despoil'd of our rights !<br>Not a pound of black flesh shall I leave to my heirs,<br>Nor must you any more work to death little whites.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Both forced to submit to that general controller<br>Of King, Lords, and cotton-mills Public Opinion ;<br>No more shall you beat with a big billy-roller,<br>Nor I with the cart-whip assert my dominion.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Whereas, were we suffered to do as we please<br>With our Blacks and our Whites, as of yore we were let,<br>We might range them alternate, like harpsichord keys,<br>And between us thump out a good piebald duet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But this fun is all over; farewell to the zest<br>Which Slavery now lends to each cup we sip ;<br>Which makes still the cruellest coffee the best,<br>And that sugar the sweetest which smacks of the whip.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell, too, the Factory's white pickaninnies, <br>Small, living machines, which, if flogg'd to their tasks,<br>Mix so well with their namesakes, the billies and jennies,<br>That which have got souls in 'em nobody asks ; </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Little Maids of the Mill, who, themselves but ill fed,<br>Are oblig'd, 'mong their other benevolent cares,<br>To keep 'feeding the scribblers,' and better, 'tis said,<br>Than old Blackwood or Fraser have ever fed theirs.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All this is now o'er, and so dismal my loss is,<br>So hard 'tis to part from the smack of the thong,<br>That I mean (from pure love for the old whipping process)<br>To take to whipt syllabub all my life long.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Moore">Thomas Moore</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529951" data-title="Epistle Of Condolence From A Slave-Lord To A Cotton-Lord de Thomas Moore" data-description="Alas ! my dear friend, what a state of affairs ! How unjustly we both are despoil'd of our rights ! Not a pound of black flesh shall I leave to my heirs, Nor must you any more work to death little whites. Both forced to submit to that general con..."></div> </div> </div>

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