Classic Poem

I NGRATITUDE — thou sin accurst,
Of ev'ry sin pronounc'd the worst;
Detested weed, where'er thou'rt found,
Infernal poison swells the ground.

Christians, who at perfection aim,
Or to its sacred heights attain,
God-like, in ll they act or say,
Will injuries with kindness pay.

Heathens, who led by nature's rage
Nor ever blest with gospel days,
By nature's dictates understood,
'Twere just to render good for good.

Brutes, that of reason ne'er possest,
Can act no higher than a beast;
Led by their own revengeful will,
Will doubtless render ill for ill.

But thou accurst, where'er thou art,
Conscience will know and point the dart:
Thou who repayest good with evil ,
Art only equall'd by the Devil.