30. The Scars of Sin

{72}
MY smile is bright, my glance is free,
    My voice is calm and clear;
Dear friend, I seem a type to thee
    Of holy love and fear.

But I am scann'd by eyes unseen,
    And these no saint surround;
They mete what is by what has been,
    And joy the lost is found.

Erst my good Angel shrank to see
    My thoughts and ways of ill;
And now he scarce dare gaze on me,
    Scar-seam'd and crippled still.

Iffley
.
November 29, 1832.

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Newman Reader — Works of John Henry Newman
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