BUSH BALLADS AND RHYMES 



I am not afraid for myself, although 



I know I have had that light, and I know 



The greater my condemnation. 

 When I well-nigh swoon'd in the deep drawn 



bliss 

 Of that first long, sweet, slow, stolen kiss, 

 I would gladly have given for less than this 



Myself, with my soul's salvation. 



I would languish thus in some loathsome 



den, 

 As a thing of naught in the eyes of men, 



In the mouths of men as a by- word. 

 Through years of pain, and when God saw fit. 

 Singing His praises my soul should flit 

 To the darkest depth of the nethermost pit, 

 U kers could be wafted skyward. 



Lord Christ ! have patience a little while, 



I have sinn'd because I am utterly vile, 



Having light, loving darkness rather. 



And I pray Thee deal with me as Thou wilt. 



Yet the blood of Thy foes I have freely spilt. 



And, moreover, mine is the greater guilt 



In the sight of Thee and Thy Father. 

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