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Oh, they will hate me,
I'm afraid,
And God, who heard
The words I said,
Will shut all liars
Out of heaven;
Oh, can I ever
Be forgiven?
HARRY.
Dear sister, I
Will tell mamma
How bad you feel,
And ask papa
This evening, when
We kneel to pray,
To ask that God
May wash away
Your sins, and help you,
Every day,
To speak the truth
Whate'er you say.
But first, I'll send
The coach away
I do not wish
To ride to-day.
