And raised him gently from the floor.
To this great anguish, newly come,
All former sorrows, in their sum,
Were but a faint exordium.
His days and nights are full of groans;
Sorely, and with a thousand moans,
For many wanderings he atones.
Old errors, vanquished for a space,
Rise up to smite him in the face
And threaten him with new disgrace.