Strange fondness of the human heart,
Enamoured of its harm!
Strange world, that costs it so much smart,
And still has power to charm.
Whence has the world her magic power?
Why deem we Death a foe?
Recoil from weary life’s best hour,
And covet longer woe?
The cause is Conscience; Conscience oft
Her tale of guilt renews:
Her voice is terrible, though soft,
And dread of Death ensues.
William Cowper (1731-1800), 1792.
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