An East-End Tragedy

You said that you would never wed:
"My love, my life's one work lie here,
'Mid crowded alleys, dank and drear,
Where all life's flower-petals are shed!"
You said.

I heard: I bowed to what I heard;
I bowed my head and worshipped you--
So brave, so beautiful, so true--
How could I doubt a single word
I heard?

My sweet, white lily! All the street,
As you passed by, grew clean again;
The fallen, blackened souls of men
Looked heavenward when men heard your feet,
My sweet.

But one came, dared to woo, and won--
He heard your vows, and laughed at them;
He plucked my lily from its stem--
Sacred to all men under sun,
But one!