No slaves on earth more welcome were than they;

But royalty, nobility, and state,

Are such a dead preponderating weight,

That endless bliss, how strange soe’er it seem,

In counterpoise flies up, and kicks the beam.

Cowper.

There’s not a leaf within the bower;

There’s not a bird upon the tree;

There’s not a dew-drop on the flower;

But leaves the impress Lord of Thee.