The chamber where the good man meets his fate Is privileg'd beyond the common walk Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of heaven.
Accept a miracle, instead of wit See two dull lines, with Stanhope's pencil writ.
How blessings brighten as they take their flight.
The soft whispers of the God in man.
Whose yesterdays look backwards with a smile.
Who, for the poor renown of being smart, Would leave a sting within a brother's heart?