I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deedsWith coldness still returning;Alas! the gratitude of menHath oftener left me mourning.

I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning; Alas! the gratitude of men Hath often left me mourning.

All men feel something of an honorable bigotry for the objects which have long continued to please them.

How men livedEven next-door neighbors, as we say, yet stillStrangers, not knowing each the other's name.

Neither evil tongues, Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men, Nor greetings where no kindness is, nor all The dreary intercourse of daily life, Shall e'er prevail against us

Let but the commons hear this testament, Which (pardon me) I do not mean to read, And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds And dip their napkins in his sacred blood; Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it as a rich legacy Upon their issue.