Curst be the wretch, whose soul, to nature deaf,
Views with indifference another's grief
Without a sigh, afflictions voice can hear
And even mock misfortune with a sneer!
The human lot is misery and woe
And evils, from unnumber'd sources flow.
When dire misfortune with her baleful train,
Oerwhelm a mortal with excessive pain,
The kind emotions of a tender heart
Command the sympathetic tear to start.