Ill-fated genius! Heaven-taught Fergusson!
What heart that feels and will not yield a tear,
To think Life’s sun did set e’er well begun
To shed its influence on thy bright career.
O why should truest Worth and Genius pine
Beneath the iron grasp of Want and Woe,
While titled knaves and idiot—Greatness shine
In all the splendour Fortune can bestow?