He who hath bent him oer the dead Ere the first day of death is fled, The first dark day of nothingness, The last of danger and distress, Before decays effacing fingers Have swept the lines where beauty lingers.
And lovelier things have mercy shown To every failing but their own; And every woe a tear can claim, Except an erring sisters shame.
The Giaour. Line 418.
Note 1. He laid his hand upon the oceans mane, And played familiar with his hoary locks. Robert Pollok: The Course of Time, book iv. line 389. [back]