While sunk in deepest solitude and woe,
My streaming eyes with ceaseless sorrow flow,
While anguish wears the sleepless night away,
And fresher grief awaits returning day;
Encompass'd round with ruin, want, and shame,
Undone in fortune, blasted in my fame;
Lost to the soft endearing ties of life,
And tender names of daughter, mother, wife;
Can no recess from calumny be found?
And yet can fate inflict a deeper wound!10
Shed then a ray divine, all-graceous Heaven,
Pardon the soul that sues to be forgiven,
Though cruel human-kind relentless prove,
And least resemble thee in acts of love;
Though friends who should administer relief,
Add pain to woe and misery to grief;
And oft, too oft! with hypocritic air,
Condemn those faults in which they deeply share:
Yet Thou, who dost our various frailties know,
And seest each spring from whence our actions flow,
Shalt, while for mercy to thy throne I fly,21
Regard th' uplifted hand and streaming eye.