Date: 1773

"Nor blush, my fair, to own you copy these; / Your best, your sweetest empire is--to please."

— Barbauld, Anna Letitia [née Aikin] (1743-1825)

Date: 1777

"The greedy Creditor, whose flinty breast / The iron hand of Avarice hath press'd, / Who never own'd Humanity's soft claim"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1777

"Where dwells the soul against Compassion steel'd, / Or who disdains the generous tear to yield?"

— Robinson [Née Darby], Mary [Perdita] (1758-1800)

Date: 1786

"But if (which Pow'rs above prevent) / That iron-hearted carl, Want, / Attended, in his grim advances, / By sad mistakes, and black mischances"

— Burns, Robert (1759-1796)

Date: 1788

"The hollow winds of Night, no more / In wild, unequal cadence pour / On musing Fancy's wakeful ear, / The groan of agony severe / From yon dark vessel, which contains / The wretch new bound in hopeless chains; / Whose soul with keener anguish bleeds, / As AFRIC's less'ning shore recedes."

— Williams, Helen Maria (1759-1827)

Date: 1788

"'Tis ever Nature's gen'rous view; / Great minds should noble ends pursue; / As the clear sun-beam, when most bright, / Warms, in proportion to its light."

— Williams, Helen Maria (1759-1827)

Date: 1788

"For Virtue, with divine controul, / Collects the various powers of soul; / And lends, from her unsullied source, / The gems of thought their purest force."

— Williams, Helen Maria (1759-1827)

Date: 1788

Slavery "speculates with skill refin'd, / How deep a wound will stab the mind; / How far the spirit can endure / Calamity, that hopes no cure."

— Williams, Helen Maria (1759-1827)

Date: 1788

"Ye! who can selfish cares forego, / To pity those which others know; / As Light, that from its centre strays, / To glad all Nature with its rays; / Oh! ease the pangs ye stoop to share, / And rescue millions from despair!"

— Williams, Helen Maria (1759-1827)

Date: 1788

"Of home! dear scene, whose ties can bind / With sacred force the human mind / That feels each little absence pain, / And lives but to return again / To that lov'd spot, however far, / Points, like the needle to its star; / That native shed which first we knew, / Where first the sweet affections ...

— Williams, Helen Maria (1759-1827)