Clarkson was honored throughout his life by a number of poetical tributes written by famous and not-so-famous poets. In March 1807, Wordsworth penned this verse in honor of the passing of the Slave Trade Abolition bill.

CLARKSON! it was an obstinate hill to climb:
How toilsome--nay, how dire--it was, by thee
Is known; by none, perhaps, so feelingly:
But thou, who, starting in thy fervent prime,
Didst first lead forth that enterprise sublime,
Hast heard the constant Voice its charge repeat,
Which, out of thy young heart's oracular seat,
First roused thee.--O true yoke-fellow of Time,
Duty's intrepid liegeman, see, the palm
Is won, and by all Nations shall be worn!
The blood-stained Writing is for ever torn;
And thou henceforth wilt have a good man's calm,
A great man's happiness; thy zeal shall find
Repose at length, firm friend of human kind!
~ William Wordsworth

Southey also paid tribute to Wilberforce and Clarkson's work in
the Poet's Pilgrimage to Waterloo.

Anon, methought that in a spacious Square,
Of some great town the goodly ornament,
Three statues I beheld, of sculpture fair:
These, said the Muse, are they whom one consent
Shall there deem worthy of the purest fame;
Knowest thou who best such gratitude may claim?

Clarkson, I answer'd, first; whom to have seen
And known in social hours may be my pride,
Such freindship being praise; and one, I ween,
Is Wilberforce, placed rightly at his side,
Whose eloquent voice in that great cause was heard
So oft and well. But who shall be the third?

Time, said my Teacher, will reveal the name
Of him who with these worthies shall enjoy
The equal honor of enduring fame; . . .
He who the root of evil shall destroy,
And from our laws shall blot the accursed word
Of slave, shall rightly stand with them preferred.
~ Robert Southey

Three more poetical tributes to Clarkson appear in
"Poems on the Abolition of the Slave Trade."

The West Indies, A Poem:

When Clarkson his victorious course began;
Unyielding in the cause of God and man,
Wise, patient, persevering to the end,
No guile could thwart, nopower his purpose bend.
He rose o'er Afric like the sun in smiles,
He rests in glory on the western isles.
~ James Montgomery

Clarkson's every thought, and word, and deed,
Devoted in humanity's behalf,
His watchings, perils, toils by night and day,
His life one ceaseless act of doing good.
~ James Grahame

Did Clarkson mourn in solitary thought?
Youth's buoyant spirit languish'd in his frame,
He turned from pleasure, and grew cold to fame:
But not in moody loneliness he pin'd
For fortune treach'rous, or for friends unkind;
His manly soul disdain'd the selfish care,
And griev'd for wrongs he was not doom'd to share.
The exile's pangs his tedious days oppresst,
And captive's cries perturbed his nightly rest,
And oft, from social scenes, he rush'd to scan
The laws of fate, and ask if such were man.
Oh! warm'd by charity -- the angel guest,
Of all man's heavenly ministrants the best;

By her inspir'd to take the the suppliant's place,
To live unbless'd for Afric's injur'd race;
By her sustain'd, through years of dull delay,
Patient and firm, he kept his dubious way,
Nor left the charge that prudence bade him shun,
Till Slavery fell; the bloodless fight was won.
~ E. Benger