This mind the raging Eumenides will not distress, nor the home
For the sad and the guiltless overturn’d without cause.
Even the hoary swan worn out in inactive old age
Gives forth admonitions, as it sings from a stifling throat;
Pure of heart with its mate conversing, it washes in water,
And morals of clearest hue in due form rehearses.
Who repents of unlawful life, and whom conscious errors
Do not oppress,—that man sings forth hymns everlasting.”
These thoughts in briefer and more nervous style Whitney rehearses to the old theme, A brazen wall, a sound conscience (p. 67),—
Murus æneus, ſana conſcientia.