So bounded are its haughty lord’s delights
To woe’s wide empire; where deep troubles toss,
Loud sorrows howl, envenom’d passions bite, 293
Ravenous calamities our vitals seize,
And threatening fate wide opens to devour.
What then am I, who sorrow for myself?
In age, in infancy, from others’ aid
Is all our hope; to teach us to be kind.
That, nature’s first, last lesson to mankind;
The selfish heart deserves the pain it feels; 300