Chapter 17 No.17

Though all were else indifferent, all that live

Spiritless shapes of nations; though time wait

In vain on hope till these have help to give,

And faith and love crawl famished from the gate;

Canst thou sit shamed and self-contemplative

With soulless eyes on thy secluded fate?

Though time forgive them, thee shall he forgive,

Whos

            
            

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