The sale began—young girls were there, Defenceless in their wretchedness, Whose stifled sobs of deep despair Revealed their anguish and distress. And mothers stood with streaming eyes, And saw their dearest children sold; Unheeded rose their bitter cries, While tyrants bartered them for gold. And woman, with her love and truth— For these in sable forms may dwell— Gaz'd on the husband of her youth, With anguish none may paint or tell. And men, whose sole crime was their hue, The impress of their maker's hand, And frail and shrinking children, too,