Consign’d them early victims to the tomb.
The heart insensible to woe like this,
Demands no caution to secure its case,
Alike depriv’d of every social bliss,
No wit can warm it, and no beauty please.
Yet while the soft emotion is admir’d,
Thro’ which thy virtues with mild radiance shine,
Forgive the pain thy danger has inspir’d.
The sigh——lest Emma’s fate should e’er be thine!
Ah! let it teach thee—nor be too secure——