"Why am I ravish'd from my native strand?
What savage race protects this impious gain?
Shall foreign plagues infest this teeming land,
And more than sea-born monsters plough the main?


Here the dire locusts' horrid swarms prevail;
Here the blue asps with livid poison swell;
Here the dry dipsa writhes his sinuous mail;
Can we not here secure from envy dwell?


When the grim lion urged his cruel chase,
When the stern panther sought his midnight prey;
What fate reserved me for this Christian race?
O race more polished, more severe than they!


Yet shores there are, bless'd shores for us remain,
And favour'd isles, with golden fruitage crown'd,
Where tufted flow'rets paint the verdant plain,
And every breeze shall medicine every wound."


In the year 1755, Dr. Hayter, bishop of Norwich, preached a sermon
before the _Society for the Propagation of the Gospel_, in which he bore
his testimony against the continuance of this trade.

Dyer, in his poem called _The Fleece_, expresses his sorrow on account
of this barbarous trade, and looks forward to a day of retributive