Forced from home, and all its pleasures, afric coast I left forlorn; to increase a stranger's treasures, o the raging billows borne. Men from England bought and sold me, paid my price in paltry gold; but, though theirs they have enroll'd me, minds are never to be sold.

Glory, built on selfish principles, is shame and guilt.

Tea - the cups that cheer but not inebriate.

Thus happiness depends, as nature shows, less on exterior things than most suppose.

A fool must now and then be right, by chance

Some write a narrative of wars and feats, Of heroes little known, and call the rant A history.

With spots quadrangular of diamond form, ensanguined hearts, clubs typical of strife, and spades, the emblems of untimely graves.