(John McCrae)






The Hope of My Heart


Delicta juventutis et ignorantius ejus, quoesumus 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.

Earths love was false; her voice, a sirens 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. Gods kind words come --
Her future is with Me, as was her past;
It shall be My good will to bring her home
At last.




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