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the story of two lives.
Her outstretched hand upheld me for a time.
I found a service. Was it such a crime
That I concealed my past—my present state
From all my former guilt to separate?
Some old companions found me; whence I came
Was thus betrayed; they called me by my name,
And I stood helpless—for that name was known—
The door was shut, and I was bid "begone!"
I found a service. Was it such a crime
That I concealed my past—my present state
From all my former guilt to separate?
Some old companions found me; whence I came
Was thus betrayed; they called me by my name,
And I stood helpless—for that name was known—
The door was shut, and I was bid "begone!"
I was not worse than others. Through my tears
I heard a cry which told of sharper fears—
A cry more wild and desperate than my own.
I saw a girl flung down upon a stone,
Sobbing with fright—I almost feared to speak,
But went towards her; and she raised a meek
And tear-stained face, with pleading, clinging trust—
"Oh! will you help me?" What a stormy gust
Of wrath and hatred rose within me then
'Gainst all this rigid world of righteous men!
Outcasts and homeless—here, two human lives
Were left to perish; yet these men had wives
And sisters; little girls upon their knee . . .
But have no pity; must she end like me?
I heard a cry which told of sharper fears—
A cry more wild and desperate than my own.
I saw a girl flung down upon a stone,
Sobbing with fright—I almost feared to speak,
But went towards her; and she raised a meek
And tear-stained face, with pleading, clinging trust—
"Oh! will you help me?" What a stormy gust
Of wrath and hatred rose within me then
'Gainst all this rigid world of righteous men!
Outcasts and homeless—here, two human lives
Were left to perish; yet these men had wives
And sisters; little girls upon their knee . . .
But have no pity; must she end like me?
