Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.

By EdwardHowland

885 The Condemned

READ me no moral, priest, upon my life,—

Reserve that for your flock.

A few short hours will end my mortal strife,

Upon the gallows block.

Before the gaping crowd, who come to see

A fellow mortal die,

Preach if you choose, and take your text from me,—

To them I cannot lie.

And still the less can I, a finite man,

Pretend to cheat my God:

By him the workings of his mighty plan

Are clearly understood.

Conceived in lust, brought up in sordid sin,

How could I hope to be

Aught but the outcast I have ever been,

Fruit for the gallows tree?

Go teach the children swarming through the town,

To-day exposed to all

The poverty and vice that drew me down,—

Save them before they fall.

But as for me, I die as I have lived,

As all men must,

Believing as I always have believed

That God is just.