Beyond all flattery, and all praise above;
The mild forbearance of another’s fault,
The taunting word suppress’d as soon as thought;
On these Heaven made the bliss of man depend,
And crush’d misfortune, when it made a friend.
A solitary blessing few can find:
Our joys, with those we love, are intertwined.
And he whose helpful tenderness removes
Th’ obstructing thorn that wounds the breast he loves,
Smooths not another’s rugged path alone,