A Dead soul lay in the light of day,
  Desperate, wan, it had passed;
Oft foiled, it had toiled on its upward way,
  Till it perished, spent, aghast,
After a thousand defeats the prey
  Of its conquering sin at last.

Said a stranger:—“Lo, how in shame and woe
  Is Satan’s seal ever set!”
Laughed a foe:—“Doth the carrion lie so...