Explore "Remorse: a Fragment" by Robert Burns on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Of all the numerous ills that hurt our peace, / That press the soul, or wring the mind with anguish / Beyond comparison the worst are those / By our own folly, or our guilt brought on: / In ev'ry other circumstance, the mind / Has this to say, "It was no deed of mine: " / But, when to all the evil of misfortune / This sting is added, "Blame thy foolish self! " / Or worser far, the pangs of keen remorse, / The torturing, gnawing consciousness of guilt- / Of guilt, perhaps, when we've involved others, / The young, the innocent, who fondly lov'd us; / Nay more, that very love their cause of ruin! / O burning hell! in all thy store of torments / There's not a keener lash! / Lives there a man so firm, who, while his heart / Feels all the bitter horrors of his crime, / Can reason down its agonizing throbs; / And, after proper purpose of amendment, / Can firmly force his jarring thoughts to peace? / O happy, happy, enviable man! / O glorious magnanimity of soul!