Were not the sinful Mary's tears
An offering worthy Heaven,
When, o'er the faults of former years,
She wept--and was forgiven?
When, bringing every balmy sweet
Her day of luxury stored,
She o'er her Saviour's hallowed feet
The precious odors poured;--
And wiped them with that golden hair,
Where once the diamond shone;
Tho' now those gems of grief were there
Which shine for GOD alone!
Were not those sweets, so humbly shed--
That hair--those weeping eyes--
And the sunk heart, that inly bled--
Heaven's noblest sacrifice?
Thou that hast slept in error's sleep,
Oh, would'st thou wake in Heaven,
Like Mary kneel, like Mary weep,
"Love much" and be forgiven![1]
Were Not The Sinful Mary's Tears. (Air.--Stevenson.)
Thomas Moore
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