Themselves of all thy labours; would forget
The mind from which they sprung, and leave thee now,
When the chill winter of old age comes on,
In dim obscurity. Nay, more than this—
Some would traduce thee, and use slander’s tongue:
But let the sinless cast a stone at thee!
And let all judge thee by thy noble works,
Thy deeds of true philanthropy, then all
Would look upon thee with a heart of love,
Of wonder, of astonishment and joy.