And set it to a razor-edge on life.
}
Cursed be the wit, which cruelty refines, }
Or to his father's rod the scorpion joins! }
Your finger is more gross than the great monarch's loins. }
But you, perhaps, remove that bloody note,
And stick it on the first reformers' coat.
Oh let their crime in long oblivion sleep;
'Twas theirs indeed to make, 'tis yours to keep!
Unjust, or just, is all the question now;