Gave such unnatural horror to her crimes,
That when the thought came over him, it seem’d
As if the milk which with his infant life
Had blended, thrill’d like poison through his frame.
It was a woe beyond all reach of hope,
Till with the dreadful tale of her remorse
Faith touch’d his heart; and ever from that day
Did he for her who bore him, night and morn,
Pour out the anguish of his soul in prayer:
But chiefly as the night return’d, which heard