To cheer my old and aching eyes, T’ illume my night of wretchedness My age of anguish and distress. If I am damn’d, why find I not Some comfort in this earthly spot? But no! this world and that to come Are both to me one scene of gloom! Lest aught of solace I should see, Or lose the thoughts of what I do, Remorse, with soul-felt agony, Holds up the mirror to my view. And I was curséd from my birth, A reptile made to creep on earth, An hopeless outcast, born to die A living death eternally!
