And shaking aye the sinner’s sand,
With felon grin, and demon leer,
Till Nature feels thy venom’d spear.
XIII.
For oft, as with a seraph’s smile,
Thou dost the happy soul beguile,
And charm away, from darkest scene,
To homes of endless day serene,
Above the world,—no more to sigh
For realms where never more they die;