"Now conscience wakes despair That slumber'd,-wakes the bitter memory Of what he was, what is, and what must be Worse."

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"There is no God," the foolish saith, But none, "There is no sorrow." And nature oft the cry of faith In bitter need will borrow: Eyes which the preacher could not school, By wayside graves are raised; And lips say, "God be pitiful," Who ne'er said, "God be praised."

— Elizabeth Barrett Browning