← Back

From The Wilmington messenger.

1897-04-11 |

View in Context Not Available Yet for this Paper.

Once I was pure as the snow, but I fell

Fell like a snowflake. from heaven to

-hell-Fell

to be trampled as filth in the street­

Pell to be scoffed at, spit on and. bea.

Praying, cursing, wishing to die.

Selling my soul to whoever would buy.

Dealing in shame for a morsel of bread.

Hating tfce living, and fearing the dead.

Thumbnail