The seaman, when the billows foam,
Rock’d on the mast, may dream of home;
The warrior, on the battle’s eve,
May win from care a short reprieve:
But earth and heaven alike deny
Their peace to guilt’s o’erwearied eye;
And night, that brings to grief a calm,
To toil a pause, to pain a balm,
Hath spells terrific in her course,
Dread sounds and shadows, for remorse—