And some said the poor would be objects more meet
For the wealth of the perfume she showered on his feet.
4 She heard but her Saviour—she spoke but in sighs,
She dared not look up to the heaven of his eyes:
And the hot tears gushed forth at each heave of her breast,
As her lips to his sandals she throbbingly pressed.
5 In the sky, after tempest, as shineth the bow,
In the glance of the sunbeam as melteth the snow,
Ho looked on the lost one—her sins were forgiven,
And Mary went forth in the beauty of heaven!