Pity swells the tide of love.
One to destroy, is murder by the law; and gibbets keep the lifted hand in awe; to murder thousands, takes a specious name, 'War's glorious art', and gives immortal fame.
None think the great unhappy, but the great.
Men are but men; we did not make ourselves.
Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears The palm, "That all men are about to live."
He sins against this life, who slights the next.