Would shrink if light but streamed within.
Nor deem we good deeds can atone
For one—the smallest—sin;
That virtues, in the balance thrown,
May God’s acceptance win,—
On tainted works man dare not rest,
“Unprofitable” at the best.
Ne’er be the impious hope allowed;
No more let mortals aim
From God, or from themselves, to shroud