The Confession

“Father--Father--I confess--
Here he kneeled and sighed,
When the moon’s soft loveliness
Slept on turf and tide.
In my ear the prayer he prayed
Seems to echo yet;
But the answer that I made--
Father--I forget!
Ora pro me!

“Father--Father--I confess--
Precious gifts he brought;
Satin sandal, silken dress;
Richer ne’er were wrought;
Gems that make the daylight dim,
Plumes in gay gold set;--
But the gaud I gave to him--
Father--I forget!
Ora pro me!

“Father--Father--I confess--
He’s my beauty’s thrall,
In the lonely wilderness,
In the festive hall;
All his dreams are aye of me,
Since our young hearts met;
What my own may sometimes be--
Father--I forget!
Ora pro me!”