47. Penance
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MORTAL! if e'er thy spirits faint, |
| By grief or pain opprest, |
| Seek not vain hope, or sour complaint, |
| To cheer or ease thy breast: |
But view thy bitterest pangs as sent |
| A shadow of that doom, |
| Which is the soul's just punishment |
| In its own guilt's true home. |
Be thine own judge; hate thy proud heart; |
| And while the sad drops flow, |
| E'en let thy will attend the smart, |
| And sanctify thy woe. |
Off Pantellaria.
December 23, 1832. |