Concentrating in one brief hour
Ages of retribution’s power!
—If thou wouldst know the lot of those,
Whose souls are dark with guilty woes,
Ah! seek them not where pleasure’s throng
Are listening to the voice of song;
Seek them not where the banquet glows,
And the red vineyard’s nectar flows:
There, mirth may flush the hollow cheek,
The eye of feverish joy may speak,