1784
reorse: a fragnt
of all the nuro ills that hurt our peace,
that press the ul, or wrg the d with anguish
beyond parin the worst are those
by our own folly, or our guilt brought on:
ev&039;ry other circustance, the d
has this to say, “it was no deed of e:”
but, when to all the evil of isfortune
this stg is added, “b thy foolish self!”
or worser far, the pangs of keen reorse,
the torturg, gnag nscioness of guilt—
of guilt, perhaps, when we&039;ve volved others,
the young, the nocent, who fondly lov&039;d ;
nay ore, that very love their cae of ru!
o burng hell! all thy store of tornts
there&039;s not a keener sh!
lives there a an fir, who, while his heart
feels all the bitter horrors of his cri,
can rean down its agonizg throbs;
and, after proper purpose of andnt,
can firly force his jarrg thoughts to peace?
o happy, happy, enviable an!
o glorio agnaniity of ul!
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