30. The Scars of Sin

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.

November 29, 1832.

Top | Contents | Works | Home

Newman Reader — Works of John Henry Newman
Copyright 2007 by The National Institute for Newman Studies. All rights reserved.