Where he pursues it is in vain to flee;
Where his form comes, a blight is on the earth;
Where his hand strikes, life passeth, or is cursed;
Where his eye glances, there despair comes down;
Where his breath falls, all mercy vanisheth.
Constantia L. Reddell.
Blunted unto goodness is the heart which anger never stirreth,
But that which hatred swelleth, is keen to carve out evil.
Anger is a noble infirmity, the generous failing of the just,
The one degree that riseth above zeal, asserting the prerogatives of virtue;