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 | The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton |  |
420
THOUGH WE REPENT.
Though we repent, can any God give back
The dear, lost days we might have made so fair—
Turn false to true, and carelessness to care
And let us find again what now we lack?
The dear, lost days we might have made so fair—
Turn false to true, and carelessness to care
And let us find again what now we lack?
Oh, once, once more to tread the old-time track,
The flowers we threw away once more to wear—
Though we repent, can any God give back
The dear, lost days we might have made so fair?
The flowers we threw away once more to wear—
Though we repent, can any God give back
The dear, lost days we might have made so fair?
Who can repulse a stealthy ghost's attack—
Silence a voice that doth the midnight dare—
Make fresh hopes spring from grave-sod of despair—
Set free a tortured soul from memory's rack?
Though we repent, can any God give back
The dear, lost days we might have made so fair?
Silence a voice that doth the midnight dare—
Make fresh hopes spring from grave-sod of despair—
Set free a tortured soul from memory's rack?
Though we repent, can any God give back
The dear, lost days we might have made so fair?
| The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton | |