Be calm, my pain

"Be calm, my pain, and venture to be still.
You clamored for the Night; it falls; is here:
The city shrouds itself in blackest chill,
Brings peace to some, to others fear.
’Neath Pleasure’s lash, the grim high executioner,
Mortal souls, that vile and worthless throng,
Reap grim remorse amidst the abject ceremony,
Pain, take my hand; let us now along . . ."