Hath in the broad blue bay cast up some petty island;
Because to the full demonstration of the qualities and accidents of good
The swarthy legions of the Devil have toiled as unwitting pioneers.
For sin is still sin; so hateful Love doth hate it;
A blot on the glory of creation, which Justice must wipe out.
Sin is a loathsome leprosy, fretting the white robe of innocence;
A rottenness, eating out the heart of the royal cedars of Lebanon;
A pestilential blast, the terror of that holy pilgrimage;
A rent in the sacred veil, whereby God left His temple.
Therefore, consider thyself, thou that dost not sorrow for thy guilt: