text:  What though a thousand years have roll'd away Since thy dread walls entomb'd their noble prey; To us they speak ask the warm tear to flow For ills now pressing and for present woe; Bid us to succour fellow-men who haste Along the thorny road of life and taste The bitterness of poverty endure All that befalls the too neglected poor; And with no friend no bounty to assist Steal from the world unwept for and unmiss'd