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.