Here you will find the Poem The Caffer of poet Thomas Pringle
Lo! where he crouches by the cleugh's dark side, Eyeing the farmer's lowing herds afar; Impatient watching till the Evening Star Lead forth the Twilight dim, that he may glide Like panther to the prey. With freeborn pride He scorns the herdsman, nor regards the scar Of recent wound -- but burnishes for war His assagai and targe of buffalo-hide. He is a Robber? -- True; it is a strife Between the black-skinned bandit and the white. A Savage? -- Yes; though loth to aim at life, Evil for evil fierce he doth requite. A Heathen? -- Teach him, then, thy better creed, Christian! if thou deserv'st that name indeed.