The features of a nobler race?
Yet such was mine!—if one who cast
A look of anguish o’er the past,
Bore faithful record on the day
When penitent in death he lay.
But still deep shades my prospects veil;
He died—and told but half the tale.
With him it sleeps—I only know
Enough for stern and silent woe,
For vain ambition’s deep regret,