LXX.
"Yon blessed Sun, and this green Earth so fair?
"Are we from noisome Damps of Pest-House free?
"And drink our Souls the sweet ethereal Air?
"O Thou! or Knight, or God! who holdest there
"That Fiend, oh keep him in eternal Chains!
"But what for us, the Children of Despair,
"Brought to the Brink of Hell, what Hope remains?
"Repentance does itself but aggravate our Pains."
LXXI.
Let fall adown his silver Beard some Tears.
"Certes (quoth he) it is not even in Grace,
"T' undo the Past, and eke your broken Years:
"Nathless, to nobler Worlds Repentance rears,
"With humble Hope, her Eye; to Her is given
"A Power the truly contrite Heart that chears;
"She quells the Brand by which the Rocks are riven;
"She more than merely softens, she rejoices Heaven.
LXXII.