That wheresoe'er my feet have swerved,
His chastening turned me back;—

That more and more a Providence

Of love is understood,

Making the springs of time and sense
Sweet with eternal good;-

That death seems but a covered way

Which opens into light,

Wherein no blinded child can stray

Beyond the Father's sight ;

That care and trial seem at last,
Through Memory's sunset air,
Like mountain-ranges overpast,
In purple distance fair;-

That all the jarring notes of life
Seem blending in a psalm,
And all the angles of its strife
Slow rounding into calm.

And so the shadows fall apart,
And so the west-winds play;
And all the windows of my heart
I open to the day.

1859.

John Greenleaf Whittier.

48

52

56

60

64

68

PARADAISI GLORIA

THERE is a city, builded by no hand,
And unapproachable by sea or shore,
And unassailable by any band

Of storming soldiery for evermore.

There we no longer shall divide our time
By acts or pleasures,—doing petty things
Of work or warfare, merchandise or rhyme;
But we shall sit beside the silver springs

8

That flow from God's own footstool, and behold
Sages and martyrs, and those blessed few
Who loved us once and were beloved of old
To dwell with them and walk with them

anew,

In alterations of sublime repose,

Musical motion, the perpetual play

12

Of every faculty that Heaven bestows
Through the bright, busy, and eternal day. 16

1872.

Thomas William Parsons.

THE ETERNAL GOODNESS

O FRIENDS! with whom my feet have trod

The quiet aisles of prayer,

Glad witness to your zeal for God

And love of man I bear.

4

I trace your lines of argument;

Your logic linked and strong
I weigh as one who dreads dissent,
And fears a doubt as wrong.

But still my human hands are weak
To hold your iron creeds:
Against the words ye bid me speak
My heart within me pleads.

Who fathoms the Eternal Thought?
Who talks of scheme and plan?
The Lord is God! He needeth not

The poor device of man.

I walk with bare, hushed feet the ground
Ye tread with boldness shod;

I dare not fix with mete and bound
The love and power of God.

Ye praise His justice; even such
His pitying love I deem:

Ye seek a king; I fain would touch
The robe that hath no seam.

Ye see the curse which overbroods
A world of pain and loss;

I hear our Lord's beatitudes

And prayer upon the cross.

More than our schoolmen teach, within

Myself, alas! I know

8

12

16

20

24

28

Too dark ye cannot paint the sin,

Too small the merit show.

I bow my forehead to the dust,

I veil mine eyes for shame,

And urge, in trembling self-distrust,
A prayer without a claim.

32

36

I see the wrong that round me lies,
I feel the guilt within;

I hear, with groan and travail-cries,
The world confess its sin.

Yet, in the maddening maze of things.
And tossed by storm and flood,
To one fixed trust my spirit clings;
I know that God is good!

Not mine to look where cherubim
And seraphs may not see,

But nothing can be good in Him
Which evil is in me.

The wrong that pains my soul below

I dare not throne above,

I know not of His hate,-I know
His goodness and His love.

I dimly guess from blessings known
Of greater out of sight,

And, with the chastened Psalmist, own
His judgments too are right.

40

44

48

52

56

I long for household voices gone,
For vanished smiles I long,
But God hath led my dear ones on,
And He can do no wrong.

I know not what the future hath
Of marvel or surprise,

Assured alone that life and death
His mercy underlies.

And if my heart and flesh are weak
To bear an untried pain,

The bruised reed He will not break,

But strengthen and sustain.

No offering of my own I have,
Nor works my faith to prove;
I can but give the gifts he gave,
And plead His love for love.

And so beside the Silent Sea

I wait the muffled oar;

No harm from Him can come to me
On ocean or on shore.

I know not where His islands lift

Their fronded palms in air;

I only know I cannot drift

Beyond His love and care.

O brothers! if my faith is vain,
If hopes like these betray,

60

64

68

72

76

80