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Quotes by Anna Lætitia Barbauld
Yet should one, A single sufferer from the field escaped, Panting and pale, and bleeding at his feet, Lift his imploring eyes, -the hero weeps; He is grown human, and capricious Pity, Which would not stir for thousands, melts for one With sympathy spontaneous: - 'Tis not Virtue, Yet 'tis the weakness of a virtuous mind.— filed under Humanity