LXXVII.

Here the self-torturing sophist, wild Rousseau,[jq]

The apostle of Affliction, he who threw

Enchantment over Passion, and from Woe

Wrung overwhelming eloquence, first drew

The breath which made him wretched; yet he knew

How to make Madness beautiful, and cast

O'er erring deeds and thoughts, a heavenly hue[jr]

Of words, like sunbeams, dazzling as they past

The eyes, which o'er them shed tears feelingly and fast.

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