I am frightened at seeing all the footprints directed towards thy den, and none returning.
Mighty to inspire new hopes, and able to drown the bitterness of cares.
My liver swells with bile difficult to repress.
Man learns more readily and remembers more willingly what excites his ridicule than what deserves esteem and respect.
There are words and accents by which this grief can be assuaged, and the disease in a great measure removed.
Is virtue raised by culture, or self-sown?