What to the sober and the cool are crimes,
They boast - exulting in those happy times;
The darkest deeds no indignation raise,
The purest virtue never wins their praise;
But still they on their ancient joys dilate,
Still with regret departed glories state,
And mourn their grievous fall, and curse their rigorous fate.
LETTER XVI.
INHABITANTS OF THE ALMS-HOUSE.
Thou art the Knight of the Burning Lamp: if thou wast any way