Ingrates of the Caribbean

There was a time when British pluck
Brought Africans the great good luck
Of voyaging across the sea,
Without the payment of a fee,
Towards a life most Christian
Of honest labour in the sun.

And yet, for all the merchants' gold
And sacrifices oft re-told
By tactful statues tall and proud
And fine foundations well endowed -
Too often the prevailing mood
Is one of black ingratitude.

One labours long, with lash and chain,
The boy to guide, the beast restrain,
The piccaninny help display
Due meekness; yet by some strange way
Of whim obscure and lust obscene,
They up and overthrow the Queen.

How can they bear becoming less
Than what's bestowed in Britishness?
What black whim would reject the grace
Of monarchy and master race,
In wilful treachery befogged
As dark and foreign double-wogged?

Britney Flagger