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John Donne - Ode
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I.  VENGEANCE will sit above our faults ; but till 
                 She there do sit, 
    We see her not, nor them.   Thus blind, yet still 
    We lead her way ; and thus, whilst we do ill, 
                 We suffer it. 
    
2.  Unhappy he whom youth makes not beware 
                 Of doing ill. 
    Enough we labour under age, and care ; 
    In number, th` errors of the last place are 
                 The greatest still. 
    
3.  Yet we, that should the ill we now begin 
                 As soon repent, 
    Strange thing !  perceive not ; our faults are not seen, 
    But past us ; neither felt, but only in 
                 The punishment. 
    
4.  But we know ourselves least ; mere outward shows 
                 Our minds so store, 
    That our souls no more than our eyes disclose 
    But form and colour.  Only he who knows 
                 Himself, knows more.
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