 | Irish Poems |  |
56
THE LEPER
Not white and shining like an ardent flame,
Not like Thy Mother and the Saints in bliss,
But white from head to foot I bear my blame,
White as the leper is.
Not like Thy Mother and the Saints in bliss,
But white from head to foot I bear my blame,
White as the leper is.
Unclean! unclean! But Thou canst make me clean;
Yet if Thou cleanse me, Lord, see that I be
Like that one grateful leper of the ten
Who ran back praising Thee.
Yet if Thou cleanse me, Lord, see that I be
Like that one grateful leper of the ten
Who ran back praising Thee.
But if I must forget, take back Thy word;
Be I unclean again but not ingrate.
Before I shall forget Thee, keep me, Lord,
A sick man at Thy gate.
Be I unclean again but not ingrate.
Before I shall forget Thee, keep me, Lord,
A sick man at Thy gate.
| Irish Poems | |