The social solace of the feeling Heart,
For sloth too rapid, and for wit too high,
230
'Tis Virtue's Pleasure, and can never die.
FOOTNOTES:
"But all our praises why should Lords engross?
Rise honest Muse and sing the Man of Ross.
Pleas'd Vaga echo's, through her winding bounds,
And rapid Severn hoarse applause resounds;