----------There is no power in holy men,
Nor charm in prayer--nor purifying form
Of penitence--nor outward look--nor fast--
Nor agony--nor, greater than all these,
The innate tortures of that deep despair,
Which is remorse without the fear of hell.
But all in all sufficient to itself
Would make a hell of heaven--can exorcise
From out the unbounded spirit, the quick sense
Of its own sins, wrongs, sufferance, and revenge
Upon itself; there is no future pang
Can deal that justice on the self-condemn’d
He deals on his own soul.
_Byron._
* * * * *
EPITAPH BY DR. LOWTH, late bishop of London, on a monument in the church
of Cudesden, Oxfordshire, to the memory of his daughter, translated from
the Latin:--
Dear as thou didst in modest worth excel,
More dear than in a daughter’s name--farewell!
Farewell, dear Mary--but the hour is nigh
When, if I’m worthy, we shall meet on high:
Then shall I say, triumphant from the tomb,
“Come, to thy father’s arms, dear Mary, come!”
* * * * *