In Spite of All: A Novel

by Edna Lyall

And the craft of tongue and pen;

Bewildered in its search,

Bewildered with the cry

“Lo, here! lo, there, the Church!”

Poor, sad Humanity

Through all the dust and heat

Turns back with bleeding feet,

By the weary road it came,

Unto the simple thought,

By the great Master taught,