Classic Poem

Only a girl just fouled with lust:
Whom God created as fair as day!
For man to follow, debauch, and thrust

Away from them, finished their lust. And so
She's here by right of her sin to stay,
In the quiet away from the foul town's flow.

Poor child! so worthy of praise and love!
And I praise you, love you, for all the sin:
As a blood-stained, mud-stained, pitiful dove

One praises, and pities, and takes to breast:
There are fairer feathers beneath, within,
There's a beating heart—and with God the rest!