Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch; And over them triumphant Death his dart Shook, but delayed to strike, though oft invoked With vows, as their chief good and final hope. Sight so deform what heart of rock could long Dry-eyed behold? Adam could not, but wept, Though not of woman born: compassion quelled His best of man, and gave him up to tears A space, till firmer thoughts restrained excess, And, scarce recovering words, his plaint renewed: