Four Years of Youth

Still I weep for those four years Which I wasted in my youth— Yet not in the pains that this tale bears Would they ever again be found; For in many days of vanity Was I of my sanctity dispossessed— When innocence was far from me In the valley of godlessness! Sweet heavens, but for His grace, I would have died in my guilt— Tho' sometimes right before my face Appears the scars of my wrongs! And then I'm left to weep the years Which I had lost in times past— Which if regained would nonetheless Leave me with these permanent scars.