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iii. But thou hast strength to toil -- while I am sickly, weak & old -- Thy heart beats quick -- thy blood is warm - but mine is slow & cold - And those mays't 1st become like me - unclear lips brief thread is spun -- It will not be a thankless plea - mercy per mercy done -- IV. They say God portions out the lot of all the sons of men Why then while the darker here with when he tinged my skin -- Thy Maker might have shaded deep, thy snow and lily face. If white excel-- compassionate the less exalted face V. They say God gave us all one blood - that brothers all might be That loss of kindred all might bind in one great family. Oh spurn not then the Indian with his copper colored phy.