Remorse is memory awake, Her companies astir,--- A presence of departed acts At window and at door. It's past set down before the soul, And lighted with a match, Perusal to facilitate Of its condensed despatch. Remorse is cureless,---the disease Not even God can heal; For 't is his institution,--- The complement of hell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OFFERING by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE TEMPTRESS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TO-MORROW TO FRESH WOODS AND PASTURES NEW' by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: THE GOVERNOR by EDGAR LEE MASTERS VICTOR RAFOLSKI ON ART by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE NEGRO DANCERS by CLAUDE MCKAY |