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Show THE OUTCAST Sho crossed my path ono winter's night, j This girl by man botrnyod; So pitiful ls now her plight, This one tlmo happy maid, tiontly I spoko for she was fair, Too young for ways of woo; Dut thoao who know hor do not coro, And thoso who caro, don't know. 1JlliWS"VI Sho spoko to mo that wlntor's night, Plying her shameful trado Whero shines tho city's brightest light, Doldly and unafraid. A tlty full of happy homos No homo llfo she may slmro; An outcast on the street sho roams, And thoso who know, don't euro. Sho'll live for yot a llttlo while, This girl by Virtue scorned, In scat lot traffic men call vllo, With crown of thorns adornod, Till pitying lako or rlvor takes Hor load, too groat to boar, And when in heaven's morn she wakes, It may bo God will caro. Wra, D. Dolaney. |