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?