A Fellow Feeling Makes Us

For Forms Of Government Let Fools Contest; Whate'er Is Best Administer'd Is Best. For Modes Of Faith Let Graceless Zealots Fight; His Can't Be Wrong Whose Life Is In The Right. In Faith And Hope The World Will Disagree, But All Mankind's Concern Is Charity.

But See, The Shepherds Shun The Noonday Heat, The Lowing Herds To Murmuring Brooks Retreat, To Closer Shades The Panting Flocks Remove; Ye Gods! And Is There No Relief For Love?

One Science Only Will One Genius Fit; So Vast Is Art, So Narrow Human Wit.

And Each Blasphemer Quite Escape The Rod, Because The Insult's Not On Man, But God?

Then Marble, Soften'd Into Life, Grew Warm.