Sambo's Grave at Sunderland Point.
Here Lies Poor Sambo Who (Attending his Master from the West Indies) Died on his arrival at Sunderland. Full sixty years the angry Winter’s Wave Has thundered at this bleak and barren shore Since SAMBO’S head laid in this lonely grave Lies still & ne’er will hear their turmoil. Full many a Sandbird chirps upon the sod. And many a Moonlight Elfin round him trips Full many a Summer’s sunbeam warms the clod And many a teeming Cloud upon him drips. But still he sleeps till the awakening sounds Of the Archangel’s Trump new life imparts Then the Great Judge his approbation founds Not on Man’s Colour but his Worth of Heart James Watson H.Bel del 1796