@MikeDunnAuthor @bookstadon Wordsworth composed Toussaint an ode when he was taken prisoner by the French:Toussaint, the most unhappy Man of Men!Whether the all-cheering sun be free to shedHis beams around thee, or thou rest thy headPillowed in some dark dungeon's noisome den,O miserable Chieftain! where and whenWilt thou find patience? Yet die not; do thouWear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow:Though fallen Thyself, never to rise again,Live, and take comfort. Thou hast left behindPowers that will work for thee; air, earth, and skies;There's not a breathing of the common windThat will forget thee; thou hast great allies;Thy friends are exultations, agonies,And love, and Man's unconquerable mind. https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Poems_(Wordsworth,_1815)/Volume_2/To_Toussaint_L%27Ouverture