To all beside,—would clay remain, though quenched
Your purging-fire; who's robbed then? Had you wrenched
An ampler treasure forth!—As 't is, they crave
A share that ruins you and will not save
Them. Why should sympathy command you quit
The course that makes your joy, nor will remit
Their woe? Would all arrive at joy? Reverse
Men win little thereby; he loses all:
The order (time instructs you) nor coerce
Each unit till, some predetermined mode,