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1862–1900

For Me.

Thomas Winthrop Hall

I heard her song, Low in the night, From out her casement steal away, Nor thought it wrong

To steal a sight Of her — and lo! she knelt to pray. I heard her say, “Forgive him, Lord;

Such as he seems he cannot be.” I turned away, Myself abhorred. She prayed — and oh! she prayed for me.

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For Me. · Thomas Winthrop Hall · Poetry Cove