Pain dies as quickly: stern, hard-featured pain

Expires, and lets her weary prisoner go.

The fiercest agonies have shortest reign:

And after dreams of horror, comes again

The welcoming morning with its rays of peace.

Oblivion, softly wiping out the stain,

Makes the strong secret pangs of shame to cease:

Remorse is virtue's root; its fair increase

Are fruits of innocence and blessedness.

Bryant