Oh woman, if through sinful wile
Thy soul hath strayed from honor's track,
‘ Tis mercy only can beguile,
By gentle ways, the wanderer back.
The stain that on thy virtue lies,
Washed by those tears, not long will stay;
As clouds that sully morning skies
May all be wept in showers away.
Go, go, be innocent,— and live;
The tongues of men may wound thee sore;
But Heaven in pity can forgive,
And bids thee “go, and sin no more!”