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