“YOU MAY WANDER AFAR; BUT, GO WHERE YOU WILL,

Another comes—a girl-face, worn, And of every good resolution shorn,—

She utters no word; but her eyes of blue Are burning, piercing me through and through!

Yet another comes and takes Her place—— I close my eyes lest I see HER face——

For the flush of youth on the girlish brow Is lost in the wanton woman now—

And I was to blame! God, let me forget! And I wipe away the beads of sweat

That lie on my brow like blood-red rain—— And I try to pray—but words are vain;—

For I know that the ghosts of my sins are here To mock me at this, the end o' th' Year!