XXVIII.
And soon may pass her suffering, for the ill
By man begot lies subject to our skill;
All human malady may be allayed
With human forethought, human action’s aid;
Ours then the fault, since, given in our hand
Is power the evil hazard to command;
For Nature, kindly wise our woes to shape,
In very pang of pain both prompts and points escape.