Yet! yet there is a something here
Of hideous vacancy and fear,
(Not fear which cowards merely feel,
Who hear the damnèd’s thunder peal,)
A trembling—which the brave confess
In this their last and worst distress—
Part of the soul it burns a spell,
And like her indestructible—
Which only those who feel that woe,
Brought by an unrepented deed,