The day is hot; upon a scaffold stands

     A girl, whose shame is partly due to me.

The burden which she holds to her demands

     That I go up and call the shame to me.

Should I ascend the dreary scaffold, too.

     And share the looks of all those hostile eyes?

Or should I stand beneath this sky so blue,

     And close my ears against my daughter’s cries?

Although my heart is crying to ascend,

     My legs refuse to carry me to it;

Because I know I never shall defend

     My sin to them; the sin I can’t admit

Will rest forever after on my heart;

     And blackness never shall from it depart.

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