The Song Of A Felon's Wife

Bryan Waller Procter (1787–1874)

The brand is on thy brow,A dark and guilty spot;'Tis ne'er to be erased!'Tis ne'er to be forgot!

The brand is on thy brow!Yet I must shade the spot:For who will love thee now,If I love thee not?

Thy soul is dark, — is stained; —From out the bright world thrown;By God and man disdained,But not by me, — thy own!

Oh! even the tiger slainHath one who ne'er doth flee,Who soothes his dying pain!— That one am I to thee!