The righteous toil, their hands with virtue stained,
Yet deeds of gold cannot the soul redeem,
For all, though kind, in sin’s broad net are chained,
No mortal good can wake salvation’s gleam.
The saintly smile, the alms in quiet stream,
Though fair to earth, to Heaven’s gate fall short,
Each heart, beneath its glow, hides flaws supreme,
All born to stray, by nature’s frail report.

No tower of works can breach the sacred veil,
No pious mask erase the scarlet flaw,
For grace alone, not merit, must prevail,
To lift the lost beyond the judgment’s law.
So all are sinners, bound by human birth,
Saved not by hands, but mercy’s boundless worth.