With a burning blush,
And an inward whisper
That I cannot hush.
“And sometimes it seemeth
Like the voice of God,
And it says, ‘Poor coward,
Using now the rod
On a child’s frail body,
Till I hear it moan,
And see its soft flesh quiver
With a burning blush,
And an inward whisper
That I cannot hush.
“And sometimes it seemeth
Like the voice of God,
And it says, ‘Poor coward,
Using now the rod
On a child’s frail body,
Till I hear it moan,
And see its soft flesh quiver