LII.

What dire necessities on every hand Our art, our strength, our fortitude require! Of foes intestine what a numerous band Against this little throb of life conspire! Yet Science can elude their fatal ire Awhile, and turn aside Death's levell'd dart, Soothe the sharp pang, allay the fever's fire, And brace the nerves once more, and cheer the heart, And yet a few soft nights and balmy days impart.