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The slave, but not the friend, of vice—
Behold me, Heaven! my pains behold,
And let them for my sins suffice!
The wretch, who lent me thus for gain,
Despised me when my youth was fled;
Then came disease, and brought me pain—
Come, death, and bear me to the dead!
For, though I grieve, my grief is vain,
And fruitless all the tears I shed.