Seize on the soul, ere passions take the sway,
And lead the heart, ere yet it feels, astray:
170
Smugglers obscene!—and can there be who take
Infernal pains, the sleeping vice to wake?
Can there be those, by whom the thought defiled
Enters the spotless bosom of a child?
}
By whom the ill is to the heart convey'd,
}