Classic Poem

My life was too short for sinning,
For sinning or for a shame;
Nor wickedness had no beginning—
Or are they all but a name?

Not even one little folly
Of my own in my brief day;
Only the monstrous folly
Of the world, which is not gay.

No sins there be, says the Father,
For which one is not forgiven.
Then come, sinners, comfort gather:
One's saintly when one has been shriven!

Then had there been time to squander
One little sin or two,
Just for wantonness and grandeur,
Which would I have chosen to do?

Ah me, I recall now the story
Of a woman mournful and fair,
A sinner, men said—a world-glory
When she wiped Jesu's feet with her hair!

Then I would needs be forgiven,
(Sweet Mary Magdala was such)
O I too would ask to be shriven
For having loved overmuch!