Of ranks and nations brings the equal claim!
How long wilt thou ascending cries withstand?
How long the red-bolt press thy lifted hand?
Or dost thou, rather, from the horrid scene
Turn thy relenting eye to the soft mein
Of prostrate Mercy, who with powerful tears,
Arrests thy wrath, and the drear prospect clears.
Ah, yes, Humanity resumes her stand;
Her raptur'd eye pervades th' increasing band;
Views frowning Interest, with averted face