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quivering ſide, the murdering ſteel; will he turn, I ſay, with horror from human aſſaſſination?
What more advance can mortals make in ſin,
So near perfection, who with blood begin?
Deaf to the calf that lies beneath the knife,
Looks up, and from the Butcher begs her life ;
Deaf to the harmleſs kid that, ere he dies,
All methods to procure thy mercy tries;
And imitates, in vain, thy Children's cries
Where will he ſtop?
Dryden's Ovid.
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