No lot like this attended on my doom,
Destin'd to live, but live within the tomb.
False zeal! false pride! but let me hide their shame,
Nor blot the parents with a barbarous name.
Back to the world I now may safely go,
And kindly foster every child of woe;
Soft Pity's handmaid still I yet may be,
And every mourner may claim kin with me;
For keen afflictions make the strongest ties,
And fellow-sufferers are the best allies.