Etherial spirits alone may hope to prove
Thy strong, yet soften'd rapture; soften'd more
When penitence succeeds to injury;
When, doubting pardon, the meek, pleading eye
On which the soul had once with pleasure dwelt,
Swims in the tear of sorrow and repentance.
The faultless mind with treble pity views
The tarnish'd friend, who feels the sting of shame;
'Tis then too little barely to ;
Nor can the soul rest on that frigid thought,
But rushing swiftly from her Stoic heights,
With all her frozen feelings melted down
By Pity's genial beams, she sinks, distrest,
Shares the contagion, and with lenient hand
Lifts the warm chalice fill'd with consolation.