The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse
His Face Was LitW. Stewart Wallace
H
His innocence lived in his heart;
And the fault, the guilt, the shame, in sooth,
’Twere right to tell apart.
And stood in the midst of the years;
Oh, whose is the fault, the guilt, the shame,
That a mother is put to tears?
Innocent, clean, and pure;
And the fault, the guilt, the shame, as a whole,
Belonged to the girl, be sure.
For he’s damned to endless life;
But the fault, the guilt, the shame, I cry,
Was Hers in the Garden Strife.