That genial sun, which evermore
Did on a cold, chill world outpour
Its rays of love and life and light,
’Twas he who quenched in darkest night.
What marvel that he owned the force
Of late regret and vain remorse,
And (all he could) now freely gave
The life the other did not crave?
Nay more, the offender did dismiss
With gifts and praise—nor only this,