The smooth impression they dejected eye—
For, yet, soft feeling prompts the pitying sigh.
As yet, the tender tear of sorrow's shed;
As yet some languid honours grace the dead.
But soon, in selfish agony anneal'd,
Cas'd by hard woe, by fiery suffering steel'd,
Reckless, they'll listen to the screaming smart,
The straining groan that rends th' associate heart.
Soon, shroudless bodies, in unseemly sort,
Thrown, frequent, through the blood-polluted port,