the evening rose

His Doorway

You might excuse my childhood pranks
On a poor man old and blind
But how can you excuse, my Father!
The sins of a mature mind

The evil deeds I did in youth
I remember now and cry
I cannot wash them away and save
My soul, though much I try

Who can absolve me, O my Father!
To whom else now I pray!
I’ve heard, you shelter those who repent
And come at your door-way