No ear can hear nor tongue can tell the tortures of the inward hell!
A quiet conscience makes one so serene.
Man's conscience is the oracle of God.
Yet still there whispers the small voice within, Heard through Gain's silence, and o'er Glory's din; Whatever creed be taught or land be trod, Man's conscience is the oracle of God.
But at sixteen the conscience rarely gnaws So much, as when we call our old debts in At sixty years, and draw the accounts of evil, And find a deuced balance with the devil.
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