Out in the sorrowed way;
“Thou hast erred, my child, yet what of that?
And Frailty’s name is mine,
Thy path of sin is naught to me,
For repentance is divine!”
And so it chanced that the lad returned
One night, when the low’ring day
Of Life had cast its dark’ning gloom
And lured him from his way;
And wine and song and kindly hands,