The jests with which he sought to drown
The consciousness of sin, or storm'd,
To put reproof or anger down.
Oh, 'tis a fearful thing to feel
Stern, sullen hate, the bosom steel
'Gainst one whom nature bids us prize
The first link in her mystic chain;
Which binds in strong and tender ties
The heart, while reason rules the brain,
And mingling love with holy fear,