The Tardy Cherub

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Cupid snoozed—his alarm betrayed, Wings askew, his bow mislaid. Love showed up a moment late, Blushing, breathless, tempting fate. Turns out hearts still fell just fine— Even tardy arrows hit on time.

Confession

To whom may I recount my sins,
with all their pains and woe?
And where shall my detail begin;
And who can stand to know?

My wicked tales in someone's ear--
how can I stain their head?
So how to tell and cast my fear
of sinful guilt and dread?

My own life cannot bear the load
of all that I have done!
How can I take you down my road?
There is none, save but One.

Confession gives the soul all good,
so who should stoop to hear?
'Tis Jesus Christ (thank God alone),
He all my life can bear.

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