And from our kindness to concealment fled;
For ever to some evil change inclined,
To every gloomy thought he lent his mind,
Nor rest would give to us, nor rest himself could find;
His son suspended saw him, long bereft
Of life, nor prospect of revival left.
“With him died all our prospects, and once more
I shared th’ allotments of the parish poor;
They took my children too, and this I know
Was just and lawful, but I felt the blow: