But left no trace of sweets behind.
The warmest sigh that pleasure heaves
Is faint, is cold to those that swell
The heart, where pure repentance grieves
O’er hours of pleasure loved too well.
Moore.
He who seeks Repentance for the past,
Should woo the angel virtue for the future.
Sir E. B. Lytton.
Divine Repentance, in thy sacred tear