O, if thy brow, serene and calm,
From earthly stain is free,
View not with scorn the erring one,—
He once was pure like thee.
O, if the smiles of love are thine,
Its joyous ecstasy,
Shun not the poor forsaken one,—
He once was loved like thee!
And still, ’mid shame, and guilt, and woe,
One Being loves him still,
Who, blessing thee, hath poured on him
The world’s extremest ill.
He knows the secret lure which led
Those youthful steps astray;
He knows that they who holiest are
Might fall from Him away.
Then, with the love of him who said
“Go thou, and sin no more,”
Save, save, the sinner from despair,
And peace and hope restore.