 | Original poems on several subjects
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XVI. Epitaph on a SLANDERER.
Here moulders one, not worth a sob,
Who all mankind was wont to rob,
Not of their watches, or their purses,
But of their characters, which worse is.
The good he hated (wretched elf)
Because the good unlike himself;
The good, still bound by Candour's laws,
But pity'd him, for the same cause.
Kind Death! to bid his tongue be still,
Commanding, “thou no more shalt kill;”
The slayer I myself have slain,
Never to lie but once again,
“When to his Saviour he shall kneel,
“When saw I thee misfortunes feel,
“In prison, naked, or in want,
“Nor comfort, food, and raiment grant?
“As these ne'er such receiv'd from thee,
“Mortal, such ne'er were offer'd me.”
| Original poems on several subjects
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