Chills the hopeless convict's blood;

  When sunk and drown'd his eve'ry power,

    In sorrow's overwhelming flood:

  To view the scene the many run,

    And o'er the hapless wretch to sigh:

  Nor once enquire the crime he' has done; ...

    They only come to see him die.

  Various cares mankind employ;

    But to gaze on human woe

  Seems the universal joy,

    For which they all their cares forego.

  Each from his pursuit departs,

    Suffering, dying Man to see;

  Surely there are human hearts

    That joy in human misery.

  Where fictitious tragic woe

    Entertains the gaudy ring,

  Each the horror can forego,

    And instant mental comfort bring.

  When the spirits take alarm,

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