To be man’s guide and glory I design’d,
A rare example for our sinful kind;
But now my weakness and my guilt I see,
And am a warning - man, be warn’d by me!”
He said, and saw no more the human face;
To a lone loft he went, his dying place,
And, as the vicar of his state inquired,
Turn’d to the wall and silently expired!
LETTER XX.
THE POOR OF THE BOROUGH.