Jane Wilde

27 December 1821 – 3 February 1896

Moral

God give us grace, each in his place,
To keep from sin and sinning:
Our souls we sell for gifts from Hell,
That are not worth the winning.
False smiles that lure but to betray,
False gold some demon flashes,
False hopes that lead from Heaven astray,
False fruit that turns to ashes.
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