Where, where for shelter shall the guilty fly, When consternation turns the good man pale?
A land of levity is a land of guilt.
The spirit walks of every day deceased.
A God all mercy is a God unjust.
Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears The palm, "That all men are about to live."
What tender force, what dignity divine, what virtue consecrating every feature; around that neck what dross are gold and pearl!