Classic Poem

Let none devout forgive my sin
Who have not sinned as I;
The soul immaculate within
Has not to measure by
My sorrowing husbandry.

The dark, the error, of my days
Shall be consoled by none
That have not in forbidden ways
Wandered as I have done
With faces from the sun.

Princes of virtue, keep your skill
Of pardon for your peers;
Frail with the frail I travel still
Along uncertain years —
Forbear your holy tears.

One hour in black Gethsemane
I walked with him alone.
He sees, he knows, he touches me —
How shall it then be known
To you, O hearts of stone?