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“Delicta juventutis et ignorantius ejus, quæsumus ne memineris, Domine.”

I LEFT, to earth, a little maiden fair,

With locks of gold, and eyes that shamed the light;

I prayed that God might have her in His care

And sight.

Earth’s love was false; her voice, a siren’s song;

(Sweet mother-earth was but a lying name)

The path she showed was but the path of wrong

And shame.

“Cast her not out!” I cry. God’s kind words come—

“Her future is with Me, as was her past;

It shall be My good will to bring her home

At last.”