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the story of two lives.
Here or hereafter, strong enough to save
The soul alive in that unresting grave!
The soul alive in that unresting grave!
I know not how I left, or where I went,
All impulse, courage, energy, were spent—
Warped as by fire, both age and sex effaced,
(That lava holds no trace of woman's breast),
I lost all shame; I robbed—or begged for food,
And "homeless 'mid a thousand homes I stood."
All impulse, courage, energy, were spent—
Warped as by fire, both age and sex effaced,
(That lava holds no trace of woman's breast),
I lost all shame; I robbed—or begged for food,
And "homeless 'mid a thousand homes I stood."
How oft beneath the vast and echoing arch,
Which strides across the river's stately march,
I've crawled to lay my weary hopeless head,
While loud above I heard the City's tread!
With sinking pulse, and dizzy, swimming brain,
Torn by stiff aching cramps, and racked with pain,
Haunted by feverish dreams, while far below,
Lulling, and cool, I heard the waters flow—
A moment to feel tempted, then to shrink
Back, back from that beguiling, awful, brink;
The start—recoil—the tottering to one's feet—
Once more, once more, into the hideous street,
Blindly to grope back into life anew . . .
Father, forgive, we know not what we do!
Which strides across the river's stately march,
I've crawled to lay my weary hopeless head,
While loud above I heard the City's tread!
With sinking pulse, and dizzy, swimming brain,
Torn by stiff aching cramps, and racked with pain,
Haunted by feverish dreams, while far below,
Lulling, and cool, I heard the waters flow—
A moment to feel tempted, then to shrink
Back, back from that beguiling, awful, brink;
The start—recoil—the tottering to one's feet—
Once more, once more, into the hideous street,
Blindly to grope back into life anew . . .
Father, forgive, we know not what we do!
