Me howling blasts drive devious, tempest-tossed, / Sails ripped, seams opening wide, and — William Cowper
No, Freedom has a thousand charms to show That slaves, howe’er contented, never know. — William Cowper
With spots quadrangular of diamond form, ensanguined hearts, clubs typical of strife, — William Cowper
Perhaps thou gav’st me, though unseen, a kiss; Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss. — William Cowper
And, of all lies (be that one poet’s boast) / The lie that flatters I abhor the most. — William Cowper
