is there, as ye sometimes tell us,  is there one who reigns on high ?  has he bid you buy and sell us,  speaking from his throne the sky?  ask him, if your knotted scourges,   matches, blood-extorting screws,  are the means that duty urges,   agents of his will to use?  hark! he answers-wild tornadoes,   strewing yonder sea with wrecks;  wasting towns, plantations, meadows,   are the voice with which he speaks.  he, foreseeing what vexations   africk's son's should undergo,   fix'd their tyrant's habitations   where his whirlwinds answer-no!
Black Lives Matter