VENGEANCE will sit above our faults, but till She there doth sit, We see her not, nor them. Thus, blind, yet still We lead her way; and thus, whilst we do ill, We suffer it. Unhappy he whom youth makes not beware Of doing ill. Enough we labour under age and care; In number th' errors of the last place are The greatest still. Yet we, that should the ill we new begin As soon repent, (Strange thing!) perceive not; our faults ne'er are seen But past us; neither felt, but only in Our punishment. But we know ourselves least: mere outward shows Our minds so store, That our souls no more than our eyes disclose But form and colour. Only he who knows Himself knows more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EGERTON MANUSCRIPT: 104. JOPAS'S SONG by THOMAS WYATT IN DISPRAISE OF THE MOON by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE THE VOICE by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON YEW-TREES by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH WELCOME, LITTLE STRANGER (BY A DISPLACED THREE-YEAR-OLD) by CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS |